The Continuum Deception
by fems
Summary: Colonel Jack O'Neill grudgingly accepted his new orders; he would just have to view Col Samantha Carter as yet another assignment. To Sam it was anything but an assignment; he epitomized everything she had lost and she was hell-bent on righting this wrong.
1. Introduction

**Title: **The Continuum Deception  
><strong>Category:<strong> Angst, AU, drama, adventure  
><strong>Setting:<strong> _Continuum_

**Spoilers**: _StarGate _(film); _Children of the Gods _(1x01); _The Enemy _Within (1x03) _The Broca Divide _(1x05); _The First Commandment _(1x06); _Cold Lazarus _(1x07); _Torment of Tantalus _(1x11); _Enigma_ (1x17); _The Gamekeeper _(2x04); _A Matter of Time _(2x16); _Point of No Return _(4x11); _The Curse _(4x13); _Ascension _(5x03); _Wormhole X-treme _(5x12); _Redemption _(6x02); _Fragile Balance _(7x03); _Evolution_ (7x11); _Heroes _(7x17); _Avalon _(9x01); _The Road Not Taken _(10x13); _Reunion _(SGA: 4x03); _Search and Rescue _(SGA: 5x01); _Continuum_

**Pairing:** Sam/Jack, Jack/Sara  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Col Jack O'Neill grudgingly accepted his new orders; he'd just have to view Col Samantha Carter as yet another assignment. To Sam it was anything but an assignment; he epitomized everything she'd lost and she was hell-bent on righting this wrong.

**Rating:** T  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> sexual insinuations, language  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> see profile  
><strong>Acknowledgments: <strong>A Karswyll was very helpful for brainstorming and being a sounding board for my ideas. Many thanks; I probably couldn't have gotten past the general plot without your help.

**A/N: **I don't have a beta, so any mistakes are my own. I always appreciate feedback and/or constructive criticism or just a comment to let me know why you (don't) like it.

* * *

><p><strong>Elmendorf AFB<br>****Anchorage, Alaska  
><strong>**July, 2008**

Colonel Jack O'Neill strolled aimlessly through the empty corridors of the base. It was quiet and the lack of people bustling about gave the impression it was night with a skeleton crew instead of early in the afternoon. He could definitely understand why this base had been chosen for realignment and consolidation with Fort Richardson to save Uncle Sam a couple of bucks. Then again, this area of the base was restricted and only authorized personnel such as himself were allowed to roam these corridors because of the freaks he'd found on the Arctic Ice over four weeks ago…

He'd been on his way up to the ice to supervise a Special Forces exercise when he received new orders to make a drop to check out a satellite image and a distress call. Taking two of his men they searched the ice and stumbled upon a dead astronaut and a non-existent flyboy. After marking the 'X' and dropping a buoy the USS _Alexandria _broke through the ice and granted them permission to come aboard. Jack had hardly had time to confer with the captain, Commander Bernacchi before they submerged and took his cargo to the infirmary where a disgraced archeologist with a frostbitten leg was waiting for them – apparently the crew of _Alexandria_ had made another pickup and had saved the guy off the ice. The rescued trio turned out to be a bunch of freaks and he'd quickly left them in the infirmary to apprise his superiors of the situation. Jack had received new orders and relayed them to Commander Bernacchi, who had immediately set course to Anchorage.

Now, more than four weeks later Jack was _still_ here and he was bored out his mind! There was hardly anything for him to do around here and leaving the base wasn't an option since he could be sent back to the Arctic Ice any moment to finally start the training – besides, it was Alaska, what could he possibly do off base? After the comment that archeologist had made about his son shooting himself Jack had been eager to go home and actually spend some quality time with his kid this summer vacation, but he couldn't since he hadn't completed his original mission yet. Until he knew for sure when he'd be allowed to supervise the training and go back home there really was no point in calling either, because that would only lead to more questions and possibly arguments.

Letting out a deep sigh, Jack tried to think of something to do to keep himself entertained but nothing came to mind; he'd already tried his hand at golfing last week, had worked out this morning and had lunch about an hour ago. At moments like these he thought about finally retiring but he was afraid boredom would set in after a few weeks of doing nothing but spending some quality time with his family and maybe do some fishing. He'd taken this position – training the new batch of Special Forces – to slowly prepare himself for retirement now that his back and knees were telling him he was too darn old to continue abusing his body on special ops. Maybe it would make the transition easier now that he'd be closer to home instead of traveling from one country to another, but it seemed like he was still a mere pawn being moved around. With rescuing the freaks he'd gotten himself reassigned by the higher ups and apparently now he had to answer to a General Hammond, who'd been assigned to take over everything regarding the trio by the President himself. Unfortunately for Jack the man had been busy with the interrogations of the prisoners – er, interviews with the visitors, as Jack had been told – for the past few days and didn't have time to talk to a mere Special Forces colonel.

Jack hadn't even met the man yet, but he had dropped by his office several times already only to find his secretary there, or if he was lucky the general's XO. _Maybe I'll drop by in an hour or so_, he told himself after turning the corner. Seeing an airman with a dinner tray walking towards what had been dubbed the visitors' accommodations, he frowned and decided to see how the 'interviews' were going. The airman stopped at the second door, which Jack knew was where the flyboy was being kept, and quickly opened the hatch and shoved the food inside before closing it and retracing his steps back to where he'd come from. Jack walked past the door and continued on his way to the surveillance room a couple of meters away at the end of the hall on the left. The isolation quarters or whatever they wanted to call the trio's accommodations were far apart from each other; the flyboy was in the beginning of the main corridor on the right, the archeologist was in the right side corridor and the dead astronaut was in the opposite, left side corridor and at the end of her corridor was a door that led to a hangar. Each had their own interview room next door as well, to move them as quickly as possible from one room to the other and without risking them running into each other or other personnel.

Swiping his card to open the door, Jack entered the surveillance room and acknowledged the men present. "Gentlemen," he muttered before joining them at the monitors. "No interviews at the moment?"

"We're waiting for Doctor Jackson to finish his breakfast and then I'll go check on his leg," the man in a doctor's coat replied, motioning towards the monitor showing the archeologist drinking his coffee.

"How is the leg, Doc?" Jack inquired, even though he'd told himself not to get involved because it would only mean more paperwork for him.

"The amputation was successful, right now he's on medication against the pain and infections and if all goes well, he should qualify for a prosthetic."

"That is if the man poses no threat and can be released under certain conditions," the suited man spoke up, turning towards the newcomer. "Colonel O'Neill, right?"

He stole a glance on the other man's suit. "That's right…."

"Colonel Frank Simmons," the man supplied.

Jack nodded slowly before stepping away when the doctor – MacKenzie, he noted looking at his nametag – moved his chair back and got up. He thought it was interesting the other colonel was wearing a regular suit and not BDUs like himself or dress blues. That and his unexplained presence here probably meant he was from Intelligence, he mused.

"If you gentlemen will you excuse me, I shall look in on my patient," Doctor MacKenzie said as he moved to the door. "Doctor Jackson should be ready in thirty minutes, Colonel."

"Ah, shooting him up with painkillers in the hopes he'll talk? The other tricks not working?" Jack asked Simmons after MacKenzie was gone. "Nothing useful then since last week, I take it."

Simmons shrugged and rubbed his hands together as he watched Jackson on the monitor. "The man has lost his leg, Colonel, it wouldn't be very nice of us to withhold him painkillers."

"Of course not… I guess sensory and sleep deprivation is in their own best interest as well?" he remarked sarcastically. The astronaut's room was so dark he couldn't even make out the furniture – or her for that matter – and it was obvious that the men's body clocks were purposely influenced as well with the different meals while it was just past lunchtime. Jack had no doubt that the trio would be kept in the dark – literally at times – unless they got food or were taken away for their 'interviews'. There was a fine line between interrogation and torture and he had enough experience to recognize the different techniques. "What's next, water boarding?"

"There is nothing illegal going on here, Colonel," Simmons said in a smug tone. "Doctor MacKenzie and other medical personnel can ensure their health and safety, no lines are crossed and it has all been cleared with my superiors. However, you mustn't forget these people pose a serious threat to our country and if they-"

Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation before interrupting the man. "Oh for crying out loud, don't tell me you believe all this crap about different universes and time machines."

"Alternate timelines and time travel, Colonel," he impatiently corrected. "I know you haven't listened in on their interviews but-"

"They're crazy," he quipped.

Simmons huffed in annoyance. "Their stories seem to match up, no matter how many times they're asked."

"I wanted to separate them on the _Alexandria _but there wasn't room," Jack muttered. Frowning at the monitors, he nudged the sergeant sitting at the computer. "What's he saying?"

Following the Colonel's line of sight the sergeant at the desk pressed a few keys so they could hear what this Cameron Mitchell was saying to his empty room.

_"… crashed, I spent _months_ recuperating in a hospital bed and then I had to learn how to walk again. I'm just saying, you can keep this up for as long as you want because all in all it took me over a year to recover from that and you know, I've got time. Well, until Ba'al shows up of course and then-"_

"Turn it off," Simmons ordered, sounding exasperated.

Jack suspected this wasn't the first time the flyboy had told that story, he remembered him telling something similar about the cold, pins in his legs and a story about Antarctica when he checked on them in the infirmary on the _Alexandria_, but he hadn't really been listening. He'd noticed the guy was chatty though. "What about the astronaut?" he waited until the tech changed to night vision and his eyes adjusted to the screen. Cocking his head to the side he tried to get a better look. "What's she doing?"

"MacKenzie thought it was some kind of meditation," Simmons replied curtly.

It made Jack wonder if she was one of those Zen people or something. It definitely wasn't something they taught you in the military and she claimed to be in the USAF, like himself and the flyboy.

At that moment Doctor MacKenzie entered the surveillance room again and immediately took a seat next to the sergeant. "Keep these settings; I want to check how long she continues to meditate."

"How long has she been doing that Doc?"

"Since she woke up this morning at 0600 hours and pretty much the entire time after her interview and before she went to sleep at 2300 hours last night."

Jack looked at Simmons, who seemed to be upset at hearing this and quirked a brow. "Despite your… interrogation tactics she maintains a normal rhythm?"

"Yes," MacKenzie nodded. "Doctor Jackson also seems to practice the same kind of meditation when he's awake, although he seems to sleep more which could be down to his medications. Or maybe he just sleeps longer than her; she's military after all."

"So she says," Jack mumbled. "Well, I should go and see Hammond. Keep me apprised."

* * *

><p><strong>Interview Room One<br>****Elmendorf AFB  
><strong>**Anchorage, Alaska**

Sam blinked a couple of times at the bright lighting as the door closed behind her. She didn't have to look over her shoulder to know the SFs had left her alone. Once her eyes had adjusted she walked over to the other side of the table. It had become her regular spot for what she guessed had been about four weeks now. The moment they were brought on base they'd been sent to the infirmary and split up; she hadn't seen the guys since or any friendly faces, actually. She'd assumed this timeline's version of Jack O'Neill – a colonel – would have made sure to get as far away from them as possible; not just because of their story and her technobabble but what Daniel had said about his son must have sounded crazy to him!

Taking a seat she forced herself to think of other things; she simply wasn't ready yet to think about Jack O'Neill – no matter which version. It was too painful after what had happened during the extraction ceremony and this wasn't the time or location to think about his fate. She'd grieve when she was alone. She wouldn't give these people the satisfaction of watching her crumble into a pathetic little heap as she mourned him – for now she needed to stay strong and collected. That required being Colonel Carter; Sam could come out when she was safe from prying eyes.

At first they had been kind to all three of them but after she'd been escorted to the interview room and started telling her story their attitudes had changed; she'd tried to explain the situation they were in and how important it was to fix this mess before Ba'al would come and take over the planet. They had been polite enough not to laugh in her face. She knew it must sound ridiculous to them but something must have convinced them there was a grain of truth in her words because she was still here.

If she was honest she had no idea what these people were thinking. After a few days and hours of interviews their attitudes had changed and they became more aggressive in their questioning and treatment of her. They tried to keep her off-balance that much she knew; overstimulating or depriving her of light, sound or sleep, giving meals at irregular hours and pulling her from her room without warning to shove her in the interrogation room… If it wasn't for the kelno'reem Teal'c had taught them years ago she wasn't sure how she'd be able to handle all this on top of losing Jack and not knowing what was happening to the guys. She hoped Daniel had pulled through the surgery but they wouldn't answer her questions about him…

Straightening on her chair and placing her hands on the tabletop she waited until the interviewer would join her and they'd start from the beginning again. Just like yesterday, the day before and all the days before that. It could have been worse, she thought; at least they hadn't put cuffs on her or made her wear a prison jumpsuit. Although that would probably be warmer and more comfortable than the infirmary scrubs she was still wearing from all the medical exams she had to undergo.

The door opened silently and a woman emerged. Seating herself, she leaned over to the camera next to her chair and turned it on. "Samantha Carter?" After placing a folder on the table, she immediately started with her questions like her male predecessor had done and didn't even bother to introduce herself.

"Yes."

"It is common knowledge that four years ago a computer failure forced the space shuttle _Intrepid_'s main engines to shut down before it could reach a safe orbit or a secondary landing site. When the autopilot also failed, Mission Commander Samantha Carter stayed behind to fly it, while her crew bailed out of the escape hatch. The orbiter went down over the Atlantic, and her body was never recovered," the woman read aloud from a paper in her file.

"It wasn't me."

She frowned and looked up from the folder. "You just said your name was-"

"I was recruited into the Stargate Program in my timeline, not NASA," Sam replied in an exasperated tone.

"So you have no recollection of the crash whatsoever?"

"Oh God help me," she muttered. At least her previous interrogator had abandoned that line of questioning!

* * *

><p><strong>Surveillance Room<br>****Elmendorf AFB  
><strong>**Anchorage, Alaska**

Jack had to bite back a quip as he listened in on the interview in the surveillance room, his mask of indifference not revealing anything to those around him. Besides, he didn't think MacKenzie and Simmons would appreciate his sense of humor – not many people did. He had just learned General Hammond didn't as he'd finally introduced himself to the man to request permission to go back to the Arctic and start his Special Forces training. Unfortunately his request had been denied and Hammond, who hadn't been in the mood for his jokes or arguments, told him to listen in on the current interviews and then give his professional opinion about the danger these freaks posed. "I take it you've heard this before?"

Simmons turned slightly towards him and huffed in annoyance – something he seemed to do quite often. "Yes, this is how it usually starts off; my superiors had hoped bringing in someone new might help."

"So… how's that working out for you?"

"It was the same with Mitchell earlier this morning."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets Jack rocked back on his feet and focused on the other occupied room. "What about the archeologist?"

Simmons snapped his fingers impatiently and the tech at the computer quickly muted the two women and pulled up the visual and audio from the other room on the central monitor.

"_… you were raised by foster parents but followed in the footsteps of your real parents and pursued a career in archeology."_ The man paused as he looked up from his papers and, seeing the archeologist's questioning face continued. _"You also have a PhD in anthropology and philology?"_

_"Yes, that's right_."

Jack refrained from rolling his eyes and briefly wondered where the orphan had gotten the money from to fund his academic achievements, but decided he really didn't want to know; he wasn't very fond of scientists. "So the guy knows a lot about dead cultures and speaks a bunch of languages… How does that explain why he thinks he travels amongst the stars? Wait, don't tell me; I don't want to know," he quickly backtracked, holding up his hand as Simmons opened his mouth. The only thing he needed to know was if this guy and his friends were dangerous; not if they were delusional – that was MacKenzie's job. He turned back to the monitor and, noting the interviewer looked surprised, focused his attention back on the interrogation.

_"… that you speak twenty-one languages?"_

Okay, maybe more than a bunch…

_"Actually… that would be twenty-seven,"_ the archeologist corrected after a short pause, as if he wasn't even keeping track.

"That's quite impressive," Doctor MacKenzie muttered from his seat next to the sergeant. "From what I've heard these past few days it seems he and the Doctor Jackson living in Egypt share the same background with the exception of this space progr–"

"Ack! I don't want to know," Jack quickly interrupted him, once again reminded why he disliked scientists so much. Besides, he still wasn't convinced these freaks were telling the truth. "Save it for your report, Doc."

Simmons cast a glance at his watch and shrugged to himself. "Well, gentlemen, it's time for me to leave and check in with my superiors; I want these transcripts on my desk within an hour after the interviews, Sergeant."

"Yes Sir!"

As the two other remaining men focused back on the interview with the archeologist Jack blocked out the sound and moved to the other side of the room instead to get a better view of the dead astronaut. He didn't have to hear what she was saying because he was sure he'd zone out if she started to technobabble again like she had when he'd pulled her off the ice, but her body language _was_ important to him; from what he could tell she seemed to be sincere and her ramrod posture definitely suggested a military background. Not only that but she was composed and while exasperated and exhausted by the endless interrogations no doubt, she seemed unperturbed; like it wasn't that big of a deal to be held against her will under less than cushy circumstances. Jack reluctantly admitted to himself that he was impressed with how she was handling the situation. He'd gotten a similar impression aboard _Alexandria_ but he'd reasoned to himself she was probably still in shock if not hypothermic but now he started to wonder if anything would faze any of them.

The archeologist was also holding his own as the interviewer's efforts intensified despite his medical condition but by the time the guy started talking about ancient Egyptians, aliens, symbols and constellations Jack rolled his eyes and gave up. He might not have a PhD but as an amateur astronomer even he knew a transportation system to other planets based on using the right constellations made no sense since the constellations were only visible from certain locations and he imagined some stars wouldn't even be visible from other planets. Jack was just about ready to declare them insane because they obviously hadn't done their homework for this fabrication when MacKenzie instructed the sergeant to switch on the sound of the astronaut's interview and the woman started babbling about points of origin, wormholes and the planet being in danger. "That's it," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head and heading for the door. These people were giving him a headache the size of Alaska!


	2. Briefing

**Five Days Later  
><strong>**Hangar, Elmendorf AFB  
><strong>**Anchorage, Alaska**

Colonel Jack O'Neill patiently waited for his new CO, Lieutenant General Hammond to conclude his explanation about all the research and briefings they'd done before coming to a final decision. General Kennedy, liaison between the Pentagon and the NID – Intelligence – had started today's briefing after introducing himself, Colonel Simmons and Colonel Maybourne who were both working for the NID and would 'assist' the USAF in this situation. Jack couldn't stand that slimy Maybourne, with whom he had the unfortunate pleasure of working on a few missions a decade or so ago before the rat bastard had transferred – to Intelligence apparently – and now it looked like Jack was not only losing his Special Forces training assignment on the ice but he would also have to work with Maybourne again! And he had no doubt Simmons was just as bad if not worse from what he'd seen of the man these past few days. He knew he'd been right about Intelligence being involved the moment the interviews turned into interrogations because the higher ups weren't satisfied with the results.

Next to Hammond, Kennedy, Simmons and Maybourne the doctor, MacKenzie, was also present and by the sounds of it another familiar face would be joining them soon; Hank Landry. Back in the early years of his career Jack had considered Hank a good man, someone he considered a friend and he and Sara had even spent a few vacations with Hank and his wife, Kim at the O'Neill cabin in Minnesota. However as the years passed he got deeper into special ops and, unlike Hank, Jack realized that following the rules wasn't always the best solution and that's how he ended up as a colonel with a few black marks on his record. In the end his decisions allowed him to sleep at night – most of the time – so Jack didn't regret any of it but Hank had changed as he climbed the ranks. After all these years Jack had no idea if it was the power or perhaps all the combat Hank had seen and things he'd done without question. But their friendship ended when he went from being Hank to becoming Landry, the superior officer that liked the power that came with the stars on his lapels. Jack briefly wondered if retirement had managed to change him for the better but quickly dismissed the thought and focused on the reason he was here.

"I personally briefed General Landry when he first arrived yesterday, he's now catching up with the latest interviews and will join us as soon as he's done," General Hammond said. "Our visitors have all mentioned him as their Program's base commander and therefore the President has decided to ask for his help in the hopes they will confide further in him and perhaps follow his lead."

Jack felt a glimmer of hope at those words, hoping he'd finally be dismissed from this assignment until he recalled the determined faces of the astronaut and the archeologist he'd seen as he'd observed some of their interviews in the past few days. After that he'd gone through the transcripts and some of the tapes and now there was no doubt in his mind that simply a few words from Hank Landry wouldn't make them fall in line. Whether he believed their crazy stories or not they obviously believed them and in his professional opinion they might be a potential danger if they got the chance to fix what they thought was wrong.

"Doc-" Hammond caught himself as the door to the hangar opened and Hank Landry walked in. "Hank, excellent timing; take a seat."

"General Hammond, General Kennedy, Colonel Simmons, Colonel Maybourne… Jack," Hank Landry greeted as he sat down. "What did I miss?"

Hammond quickly explained that Kennedy's briefing had been very similar to what he'd already told him earlier and introduced him to MacKenzie. "Now, here's the deal, people; the Navy is looking for this Stargate and if they find it will start the Program these three people have described and the Army has been tasked with drilling for the alien platform in Antarctica. Since the Air Force has been involved in this from the start," he looked in Jack's direction before continuing, "The President has tasked us and the NID to make sure these people won't try to do anything foolish. Obviously the higher ups are hoping that despite not being from our Air Force, at least two of the three might actually feel compelled to follow our orders."

"With all due respect, Sirs, but can we even be certain these people are who they say they are?" Jack asked as he doodled on his notepad, only briefly glancing up at his new CO. He also highly doubted the astronaut and the flyboy would ask how high when they were told to jump just because they thought they were USAF too. It would be a rookie mistake to think they could handle those two because they considered themselves Air Force; if anything he thought it could make them even more determined and loyal to their own timeline... he quickly stopped himself right there before he too would start believing this crap about time traveling and whatnot.

"If I may, Sirs?" Colonel Maybourne requested and, as he received permission, turned towards a monitor. "We have verified the location of Doctor Daniel Jackson and have proof he's really staying in a hotel in Egypt." He showed them some pictures of Daniel Jackson with a few key strokes on a keyboard. "On the left side of the screen is the man in our custody," he gestured at the picture of Daniel Jackson; a bit buffed, short hair, modern glasses and his lower left leg amputated. On the right side was a far geekier version of the same man; scrawny built, longer hair and different glasses. "My men went to Egypt and took several pictures like the one on the right seven days ago. They managed to retrieve a DNA sample which we compared with our… visitor; it was a match," he concluded, looking pointedly at MacKenzie.

"It's interesting to note that their fingerprints are also identical," MacKenzie spoke up. "Even identical twins don't have the same fingerprints despite sharing the same genetic code. These two men truly _are_ one and the same person."

Only slightly surprised Jack nodded slowly. "And the dead astronaut?"

"Yes Doctor," Landry also turned towards the man in the white coat. "Please tell us, because it almost seems like yesterday I was attending Mission Commander Carter's memorial service on the front lawn of the White House."

"Her DNA and fingerprints are a match with what we have in our database on the late Mission Commander," MacKenzie confirmed. "Because of her enrollment into NASA and all its requirements we also have access to her medical files and while _this_ woman," he tapped the file of his patient in front of him, "is biologically speaking the same as the one who died in the crash four years ago there are distinct differences, like healed fractures and scars which don't match up."

General Kennedy narrowed his eyes at the report included in the folder he'd received at the beginning of the meeting before looking up. "You're absolutely certain this woman is _a_ Samantha Carter but not _the_ Samantha Carter, mission commander of _Intrepid_?"

"No one could have survived that crash," Jack muttered under his breath as the doctor nodded an affirmative. This new medical proof only confirmed what he'd already suspected; they really weren't the… original, for lack of a better word, Jackson and Carter but Jack still wasn't sure if that meant he also believed their story about time travel. It just seemed so ridiculous, but there had to be an explanation as to how these freaks came to be and he still hadn't heard anything else.

"That's right; you were involved in the search of Mission Commander Carter's body after the crash, weren't you, Jack?" Maybourne asked with a small smile.

Landry formed a steeple with his fingers as he pursed his lips. "I take it that means you're familiar with her file? And you've seen the interviews with this woman too?"

"Colonel O'Neill was the one who picked the trio up from the ice and took their initial debrief aboard the USS _Alexandria_," Hammond informed both men. "Because of this, his general expertise and his familiarity with the Mission Commander he's been reassigned to the current situation."

Jack grimaced at hearing what he'd already suspected; just his luck! Maybe he really should have retired. "What about the other guy?"

Smirking, Simmons straightened up in his chair. "He doesn't exist; that is to say there's no record of a Colonel Cameron Mitchell fitting his description currently deployed in the USAF or anywhere else for that matter. There was one Mitchell of note who served in the Merchant Marine in the late 1930s and we managed to uncover an old picture of him," he added, nodding to Maybourne to change the picture on the screen from Jackson to a black and white picture of a man closely resembling this Mitchell. He waited a minute until the other men had processed this before sharing the clou. "He was the captain of the ocean freighter _Achilles_."

"_Achilles_?" Landry questioned with a deep frown.

Something clicked in Jack's brain and he shot a glance at the gloating NID members. "The ship in the ice they claimed was holding the gate and sank after they arrived through their wormhole."

"Colonel?"

Looking at his CO he shrugged and explained. "When I fished them off the ice they were wearing foul weather gear; there was a label with the ship's name on it on the inside and they said the name was also on the life jackets in one of the crates."

"Captain Mitchell never returned to the States and his ship was lost at sea in 1939. From what we could find in the archives his job was to bring an artifact, which was hoped to be a weapon, from Africa back to the States before World War II," General Kennedy elaborated. "The Captain was presumed dead and considering their likeness," now he was signaling Maybourne, who hit a few keys and pulled up a picture of the flyboy in custody next to the black and white one. "It's possible this is one and the same man or Mitchell was telling the truth when he said the captain was his grandfather."

"Have their stories been verified?" Landry asked.

"It took us quite a while to find someone with the expertise we needed and who we could give the right clearance, but our experts say it could theoretically be possible," Kennedy replied. Peering at his notes, he continued. "Doctor Lee said the so-called grandfather paradox explains the absence of this Mitchell in our timeline; Captain Mitchell died at sea before he could father a child as he was supposed to in the alternate timeline and thus Mitchell's parents never met and our visitor was never born."

"How can we be sure? Have you heard them talk, especially those two geeks? They sound like they're three fries short of a happy meal!"

MacKenzie frowned for a moment and choosing his words carefully, tried to explain. "Colonel O'Neill, you must have realized their stories share a lot of similarities yet they all focus on different areas and don't use the same phrasing, which indicates they are telling it from their own experiences. The probability of the three of them sharing the same… delusion with this kind of conviction is-"

"Lower than some evil alien bent on galactic domination traveling through time to change the course of history and the three of them accidentally ending up in this alternate timeline because they were in a wormhole at the time?" Jack asked dryly. Waiting a beat, he raised his brows. "Well?"

After exchanging looks with the other two generals, General Hammond cleared his throat. "I'm glad to hear you seem to have such an understanding of the situation, Colonel O'Neill. Since we seem to be unable to get more information out of our visitors, the brass have decided that if the trio pass our threat assessments, agree with our terms and sign a non-disclosure agreement they will be given a new identity and will be relocated to start a new life under certain conditions and surveillance."

"Crap," Jack muttered with his chin resting in his palm. Even as a young boy he'd been warned not to run his mouth but it was already too late; it seemed like he'd just earned himself a new assignment by putting his foot in his mouth again. He usually played dumb because it gave him a strategic advantage but since he was still reluctant to believe this concocted story about aliens and alternate timelines – and more importantly the death of his son – he'd been trying to make a point and inadvertently showed his hand.

"In this case the NID will coordinate with the Air Force Office of Special Investigations, which will assign handlers to each individual to keep an eye on them," Kennedy announced before motioning to Simmons.

Simmons gave a curt nod and picked up where his CO had left off. "We will provide audio and video surveillance and support when the OSI special agents need it."

Jack had no doubt the NID would follow through on that; they were probably hoping the astronaut would talk in her sleep and give detailed plans to build a powerful bomb or maybe even a spaceship or something. "When will this decision be made, Sir?" He directed his question to his commanding officer.

"I've already met with the OSI investigators and we've come to a conclusion, but I would like to hear the threat assessments the NID and you yourself have made, Colonel," he said. "Therefore I suggest we move onto the next part of today's briefing, gentlemen." All five of them agreed and Hammond turned towards MacKenzie. "Doctor, thank you for your contributions and I will see you tomorrow at 1000 hours at my office. Dismissed."

"Yes Sir," MacKenzie, obviously also in the military, gave a curt nod. "Sirs," he looked around and rose from the table before leaving the hangar.

Shifting in his chair Jack tried to get a bit more comfortable, not really trying to keep a ramrod posture like those NID goons, just relaxing as he prepared himself for at least another hour of this meeting. He briefly wondered if he had enough paper for his doodles because he doubted he'd need to make notes; he had a pretty good memory, even if he tried to pretend otherwise and was more or less hoping he would finally be able to get back to his men after giving his threat assessment. He watched as MacKenzie closed the door of the hangar behind him, no doubt to go back to the surveillance room or maybe check on the archeologist's leg and then shifted his eyes to the other men present.

Jack thought it was interesting Simmons was the only one in a suit while Maybourne, also NID was in his dress blues. Kennedy and Hammond were in their blues as well, but Hank was still wearing his pilot jacket over what looked like his dress blues shirt and pants. He himself was wearing BDUs not just because he liked them better but also because he hadn't needed to take anything else – like his dress blues – with him when he'd prepared to go to the Arctic. It was supposed to be a training exercise on the ice and not days filled with interviews and meetings on a boring base for crying out loud!

General Kennedy suddenly shifted in his chair and retrieved his buzzing cell phone. "Excuse me," he muttered before taking the call and walking to the other side of the hangar.

Jack rolled his eyes and returned to his doodles when he noticed the other two generals taking it as an opportunity to grab something to eat and drink from the buffet table a few feet away.

It wasn't long though before Kennedy returned and cleared his throat, demanding everyone's attention. "I'm afraid I'm being called away to the Pentagon; Colonel Simmons will come with me and Colonel Maybourne will resume the meeting and represent the interests of the Pentagon and the NID."

_Of that I have no doubt_, Jack thought to himself when he saw Maybourne's smug face as the other two men left as quickly as decorum would allow. Knowing Maybourne was obviously very pleased with the NID's stance on this situation Jack dreaded hearing it and once again hoped he'd be done with this assignment after today. The two generals, who were talking in hushed voices amongst themselves, had finished their snack and sat back down with their coffee cups in hand and both seemed to turn their attention to him. He calmly looked back as he tapped his fingers on his notepad. "Ready if you are, Sirs," he quipped.

"Let's not beat around the bush here," Hammond said after casting a glance at his watch. "I would like to wrap this up so I can spend the rest of the vacation with my granddaughters and I'm sure you all have families you'd like to see too."

Jack narrowed his eyes slightly at his new – and hopefully temporary – CO and wondered if the last remark was meant for him; he doubted anyone would miss Maybourne. Of course Hank also had a wife and if Jack recalled correctly Kim was actually the one behind the man's retirement because last he'd heard they'd been heading for divorce before the man stopped working. They had a daughter too, Carolyn, but he doubted she'd still be living at home and it actually looked like Hank was enjoying himself here. Perhaps retirement wasn't everything he'd hoped or maybe the man was just enjoying the attention and need for his input before he could go back to his wife. Jack was only half-listening as the others started discussing the situation and hoped Hammond's words about family were a good sign unless he'd imagined the look he'd been sent. His gut was telling him this assignment wasn't over yet and would be more trouble than it seemed on the surface.

"… and the OSI agreed with me; however, I do think additional measures should be taken to prevent Ms Carter from meddling with the timeline."

Holding back a sigh, Jack tried to focus on the conversation. He'd missed the first part of Hammond's statement but the mention of being on the same wavelength as the OSI and him referring to the dead astronaut as _Ms_ Carter caught his attention. So far no one had really referred to her as anything other than _a_ Samantha Carter. He'd caught up on her interviews these past few days; she'd mentioned her rank and her PhD several times and now she'd been stripped of both titles even though everyone seemed to agree she really was who she said she was and where she was from and for some reason he sympathized with her. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he'd lost his rank and from what he understood he hadn't been nearly as accomplished at her age.

"The NID is perfectly fine with handing Mitchell over to the OSI; they can keep an eye on him and assign him a handler, it's the other two we're worried about," Maybourne said, looking at the folder in front of him.

"This Mitchell fellow was a pilot, right?" Hank asked, looking around the table. "And he was the team leader?"

Maybourne nodded again, apparently scanning his notes. "He got command about three years ago, when the original team disbanded but from what he told us it seems he managed to get most of them back. Carter was reassigned to a different position over a year ago and Jackson was limiting his time in the field, doing more research and training new personnel apparently. They are both still the experts in their field though."

"Mitchell is relatively new to the Program and has no expertise other than commanding an off-world team as they call it or flying their fighter-interceptor," Hammond added.

"That hardly sounds like he's a threat," Landry concluded, raising his caterpillar-like eyebrows at the other men present.

Jack nodded slowly, already having come to the same conclusion. "From what I saw of his interviews he seems to defer to both Carter and Jackson quite often; I really don't think he'll be a problem on his own."

"He's worthless to us," Maybourne agreed. "He couldn't even tell us when their Program started, in '94 or '97; everything he knows from before he joined came from reports submitted and lived through by the other two and their two team members, the alien and their O'Neill."

"The two scientists… do you think they'll be willing to work with us? To use their expertise to help the Navy set up their Program and help us advance in physics and whatever it is that Jackson fellow does."

"With respect," Jack said lightly in reply to Landry's question. "I highly doubt it. Those two aren't stupid and they know you'll never let them near this 'gate so why would they help us?"

Hammond rubbed his bald head and sighed loudly. "Your opinion is they won't cooperate with us, Colonel O'Neill?"

"They'd get a nice new identity and allowance for it in return," Landry scoffed, making it sounds as if they should be happy they'd be allowed to leave custody.

Maybourne unexpectedly shook his head at the retired two-star. "I agree with Jack. The NID would prefer to keep Carter at Area 51, where she could help us make technological advances. In theory we wouldn't need Jackson since we have our own, who at the moment is nothing more than a discredited whack-job living on the fringes of society with no real goal in life; that would however set us back at least a decade since he doesn't have the same experiences and knowledge this other Jackson has acquired throughout their work."

"So what, you want to keep both of them locked up here and throw the flyboy out?" Jack questioned, with a frown. "I don't think either of them will agree to do this; not unless you guarantee them access to the gate, which in itself would be a colossal mistake. They simply can't be trusted to have our… reality's best interest in mind," he added, silently wondering when he started to believe all this crap about alternate timelines.

"We might be able to work something out with them," Maybourne suggested with a smug little smile.

Jack knew exactly what the bastard was hinting at and didn't approve of it, no matter how insane or brilliant these people were. "You seem to be forgetting something there, Maybourne."

"Really, what's that Jack?"

He shrugged and gestured towards the folders on the table. "Well, first of all Simmons has already tried several methods to get them to crack and none have worked so far. Now, I have no doubt about how far you're willing to take this but if everything they've said about these aliens, their technology and beliefs is true then I don't really think you can do anything worse than what they've already gone through when getting captured by them in the past – without cracking. More importantly, they know we need them; at least Carter and maybe Jackson so threatening to withhold their food and water or worse won't work either. And last but not least; we obviously have to split the three of them up and the moment we do, they have nothing left to lose."

"Well-"

"No wait, Hank," Hammond interrupted his friend. "I think the Colonel has a point here. Jackson already lost his leg and Ms Carter appears to be even brighter than the late Mission Commander; by splitting them up they'll lose each other and have nothing left to live for so forcing them won't get us anywhere."

Maybourne leafed through his folder before he spoke up again. "That has crossed our minds," he seemed reluctant to admit it and glared at Jack. "General Kennedy has suggested we offer Ms Carter the Mission Commander's life."

"What?"

"It's simple; we'll tell everyone she survived the crash somehow but was in a coma, close to dying…" His voice trailed off and he made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "I'm sure our medical experts can come up with something and now that she has 'recovered' she can go back to work; we'll have the Mission Commander – and her popularity – back but due to the trauma she goes back to research and Ms Carter doesn't have to hide and can help us out with what she does best."

Jack shook his head in disbelief. "No one will buy that, Maybourne. And I'm pretty sure the woman herself won't agree to it. It's basically the same deal we'd offer her only now she'll be famous too – just a prisoner in her own home instead of wherever you'd like to keep her."

"She could keep her name, her own identity and see her family, Jack," Maybourne countered. "With a new identity that's impossible and she could be easily recognized."

"It's something to take into consideration," Hammond agreed before making a few notes. "Either way, Ms Carter is the biggest threat. And while Mr Jackson seems highly valuable too it was her who managed to get the 'gate system working; he just figured out how to dial the planets, she made it all work. And her knowledge can be applied to more than just the Navy's new Program, unlike Jackson."

Landry nodded solemnly, seemingly having come to the same conclusion. "However we mustn't forget that Jackson might be more difficult to handle; he's a civilian, he won't be allowed to work in his area of expertise, he's lost his leg and his counterpart here had absolutely no problem ridiculing himself in front of the entire academic world with his insane ideas."

"Not so insane anymore, apparently," Jack muttered under his breath. "When Carter declines the offer to take over her dead counterpart's life and chooses the new identity instead, we'll need to keep a close eye on her to make sure she doesn't pull a stunt to somehow undo what apparently has been done. Jackson is of less concern to me since he probably won't be able to do anything without her help, not in the least because of his new handicap."

"I like the way you think, Jack," Maybourne smirked. "The OSI can handle Mitchell, but Jackson will need some more on-site surveillance and Carter will need someone close by to keep an eye on her and perhaps try to extract information from her."

Jack narrowed his eyes at him, wondering why he was having a bad feeling about this. "You're suggesting an undercover operative to… what? Befriend her in the hopes she'll confide in them?"

"General Kennedy, Landry and myself have already discussed a plan of action this morning with the President via a video link," Hammond spoke up when Maybourne and Hank both looked at him. Taking a deep breath he looked at Jack with a serious expression. "One that includes you, Colonel O'Neill."

"Of course it does," Jack muttered as he rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. "Let me guess; befriend the dead astronaut and make sure she isn't plotting a scheme to take over the world? Ah, come on, that's never going to work," he almost whined.

"She's been on your counterpart's team as second-in-command for seven years until he got a star and took over as base commander. He even remained part of the Program after receiving his second star," Landry countered, glaring at Jack as if the fact that his counterpart had been promoted to general proved there was something wrong with the alternate timeline. "All in all he's been her mentor, friend and someone she has relied on for over a decade."

Hammond, whose face was still schooled in the same serious expression nodded slowly. "Your report seemed to imply she was rather happy to see you and I believe it was Jackson who even called himself the closest thing you have to a best friend."

"He," Jack corrected. Seeing everyone's questioning stares he rolled his eyes and elaborated. "Jackson meant he was the closest thing my… eh, counterpart has as a best friend, not me."

"Yes, well…" Hammond's brows came together in confusion but he shrugged it off and continued with his initial statement. "This trust they seem to have in your counterpart could be helpful-"

"It should be exploited," Maybourne interrupted, apparently enjoying the situation enough to, for once, not care about sucking up to his superiors .

"He's right," Hank agreed, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "They trusted him to watch their back for all those years so they'll trust you; they can't help themselves. You, Jack, would be the best option to check in with Jackson every now and then and become Ms Carter's personal handler."

Jack fidgeted with his pen as he tried to come up with more arguments; he really didn't want to be stuck babysitting and befriending the dead astronaut for the next couple of months. "They'll never fall for it, especially her; she's way too smart."

"She'll also be very lonely, Colonel," Hammond argued. "She'll find herself in a new town, separated from her friends, without the job she seems to love and probably mourning for who knows what she lost with the timeline changing!"

"And then there'll be you, Jack. Her trusted commanding officer, mentor and friend of over a decade when she needs a shoulder to cry on," Hank added with a grin and an exaggerated wave of his hand; he'd always had a flair for the dramatic.

Jack's mind was going a million miles an hour as he looked at the three other men present and he felt his cheeks warm up – with anger or embarrassment, he wasn't sure – and swallowed hard. "What are you saying, exactly?"

Hank Landry seemed to enjoy his discomfort and smiled. "We're saying that you'll do _whatever is necessary_ to befriend Samantha Carter, gain her trust, extract as much information as possible and persuade her to be on our side, work with us and forget about changing the timeline."

"Sirs, with all due respect-"

"Oh come on, I could think of far less attractive women," Maybourne smirked. "As a matter of fact I seem to recall tall blondes are your type, Jack."

"Then why don't you do it?" He automatically protested.

The rat bastard just shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Trust me, I would be first in line," he chuckled, "if Carter hadn't identified me the moment I stepped into the room."

"Ms Carter and Mr Jackson both recognized Colonel Maybourne and their hostility increased in his presence," Hank explained, referring to a few weeks back.

Jack remembered reading the transcript and how he'd chuckled at Carter's comment about Maybourne being an idiot before the man had even tried to sit down, but he was quickly jerked back to the present by Hank's words. His first thought was to balk when he realized he had understood exactly what they'd been saying and had correctly interpreted just what they expected him to do. "You can't honestly expect me to… I mean, that's insane not to mention immoral," he nearly gasped as he stared at Hammond, before adding a belated "Sir".

"Colonel, I don't have to tell you we've all been forced to do some damned distasteful things in service of our country; I reckon being a friend, a mentor and possibly lover to Samantha Carter ranks pretty low on that list. You will do whatever necessary to extract the information we need from her, understood?"

Controlling himself, Jack took a deep breath to try and calm himself as the ramifications of this assignment became clear to him. He had made marriage vows to Sara all those years ago but one look at the three-star general told him that speaking of love, honor or even integrity first, or any of the other Air Force Core Values would do him no good. After all, Hammond was right; he _had_ done more than enough damned distasteful things for his country but cheating on his wife was not something he had ever done – not that he hadn't been tempted throughout the years, but they had a family… Could he refuse this assignment? Could he afford to and piss off not only Hammond and the NID but also the President and other higher ups involved in this?

He had to think of what this would do to his career and his family; for the past few weeks he'd wanted to do nothing but get out of here and leave these freaks and their crazy stories behind but he now also knew there had to be some truth in their words and he couldn't help but think back to Jackson's words about his kid… What if he turned his back on this entire situation and his replacement failed to stop the astronaut? Maybe, Jack thought, he could just befriend the woman and be her shoulder to cry on without having to become intimate with her? Hell, she probably wasn't even interested in him in that way.


	3. Zero Hour

**A/N:** The second scene is a rewrite of the hangar scene from the movie so a handful of lines might look familiar.

* * *

><p><strong>Saturday<br>O'Neill Residence  
>Winter Park, Colorado<strong>

Jack stared at his plate and not feeling very hungry he basically just pushed his food around with his fork. Feeling someone's gaze on him, he looked up into his wife's concerned green eyes. "Hm?"

"Are you sure you're feeling all right, Jack?" Sara asked, unable to keep the worry out her voice.

"I'm fine," he mumbled.

She gestured at his plate, seemingly implying that his lack of appetite said otherwise. "I thought you'd like some Chinese takeout."

"I do, I'm just not very hungry. I'm sorry," he tried to apologize, knowing she'd only ordered in because he'd come home unexpectedly late in the afternoon – just in time to greet his kid before he took off. She was never one for fancy dinners and preferred to cook simple meals instead but since he hadn't called ahead and their son was staying with friends until tomorrow, she hadn't done any grocery shopping and hadn't been prepared to cook a proper meal for the two of them.

Sara sighed and taking both their plates she moved into the kitchen. "You could've just told me then I wouldn't have gone through the trouble of ordering in," her voice drifted back to his seat at the table. "I'll expect you to eat these leftovers tomorrow or Monday if they'll keep that long."

Picking up their glasses, Jack tried to make himself useful and joined her in the kitchen. "I told you I have to fly back Monday morning, remember," he reminded gently. Seeing her glare at the glasses he'd put on the counter he took the hint and placed them in the dishwasher. He knew his career wasn't easy on her either and now that their son was going to college and living on campus, she was basically living alone whenever he was on assignment. Even after all these years it was difficult to adjust for both of them when he got home, especially if it was only for a few days like now. Gingerly wrapping an arm around her shoulder he pulled her closer. "I really am sorry, baby," he murmured in her ear as she sagged against his chest. "I would have called ahead if I'd known; I had a late meeting yesterday about a new assignment and when I reported to my CO this morning he told me to take the weekend and that my flight was leaving in half an hour."

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," she whispered. "You coming home just threw me off balance; you've been gone for over a month without a word, Jack. I was afraid something had gone wrong and I had no way of reaching you. Then suddenly you're here on the doorstep for the weekend without warning."

"Sara, I was reassigned," Jack replied, wincing and pulling back from her as he said the words. He knew she wouldn't be pleased because she'd been the one at home raising their son while he'd been gone on classified missions for years. A few years ago she'd insisted he finally ask for reassignment to something safer with both of them getting older and him coming home injured more often. Fact was he just didn't heal as quickly as he used to and his body seemed to protest more as he got older whereas he used to be able to bear the pain and pretend he was fine when he got home. However, he'd realized she was right and since he actually wanted to see his kid graduate from college he'd asked for reassignment to train the next batch of Special Forces. Ever since, his wife had stopped nagging about his work knowing he was somewhere safe, although he doubted she realized the dangers of some of the exercises he taught or the areas where they took place.

She immediately threw an accusing glare his way before turning to the leftover food to put it away in the fridge. "I can't believe you…"

"It wasn't my choice," he countered. Still, he felt guilty for not calling – not that he would tell her he'd been near a phone all this time – but he hadn't done so because he knew this would be her reaction and at the time he had no idea what his next orders would be. He reached for the rest of the dishes and started rinsing them, hoping she'd understand he was trying as he continued to explain. "It was an order from up the food chain and they reassigned me to… well, let's just say I was pulled from the training exercise for this and they expect me back on Monday."

"Reassigned you to do what, exactly?" She asked as she stepped up to him at the sink.

Jack groaned softly, knowing he couldn't tell her a damn thing; it had been like that for most of their marriage but these last few years he'd been able to at least tell her what he was doing since training exercises in themselves weren't classified. "It's classified-"

"Again? Jack, you promised you wouldn't go back to that!" Sara argued as she snatched the dishes from his hand and angrily pulled open the dishwasher. "You said no more secrets."

He had to strain his ears to hear her last words as she leaned down under the guise of loading the appliance. Scowling at the situation he softly placed a comforting hand on her back. "I know, but it's not what you think; I'm not going back to that, ever." He'd seen more than enough darkness to last him several lifetimes and even if his age wasn't a factor he wouldn't return to black ops, she had to know that. "It was more of… an evaluation," he said after searching for a word that would describe it accurately without giving too much away. It wasn't that he didn't trust her – he did – but he didn't want to burden her with the things he'd seen, done and experienced. Hammond had given him the weekend to think about whether he wanted to accept this new assignment but he wouldn't trouble Sara with it, not even if the Texan had given him permission to tell her about it – hell, she'd probably think he had finally lost his marbles if he told her.

"Jack…?"

"I'm telling you the truth," he vowed as she straightened up to face him.

Sara nodded slowly and took his hand, leading him back to the living room with her. She sat down on the frilly flowered chair and waited for him to take a seat opposite to her. "So what does this mean? How long will you be gone and where will you be?"

He grimaced, looking around the overly pink décor until he spotted his brown throw and put it over the frilly pink chair left for him; he wasn't really comfortable with all the pink, flower decorations and frilly things on the first floor of their house but he'd let her decorate the place when they got married. Since he was usually away on assignment it was more her place than his anyway and he suspected she might have done it on purpose the first year, wanting him to object so they could argue about him never being home – but he'd taken it in his stride, tried to ignore the pink on the wallpapers and just put a masculine throw over the chairs.

"I don't know yet," he mumbled as he sat down on the throw-covered chair. He'd heard what she'd asked between the lines and ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know how long it will take and when or how many times I can get home if I take this new assignment they offered me, but it does mean I'll remain stateside; I don't know where yet and even if I do I can't tell you, but it will probably be a lot safer for me than the training exercises," he grinned at her as relief showed on her face.

"But I thought you said you'd already been reassigned and didn't have choice?"

"That was for these past few weeks but they've offered me another assignment, which I'm free to decline," Jack explained. The way the 'offer' had been made though made it clear he wouldn't be doing his career any favors by rejecting it, but he wouldn't tell his wife that. He couldn't go into specifics with her – hell, he'd never tell her the gist of the assignment even if just befriending the astronaut would be enough – but he wanted to involve her in this somehow. They'd learned the hard way over the years that they were in this marriage together and career decisions, no matter how vague, had to be made together otherwise it wouldn't do their relationship any good. With the assignments he used to take they'd hardly ever seen each other and it had almost pulled them apart, especially when he'd only been home long enough for them to argue and fight about his career and the choices he'd made without discussing it with Sara first. Then they'd been forced to make up over the phone – if they even bothered to make up at all and not just get into it again the moment they spoke or saw each other again.

Sara was quiet for a moment, wringing her hands together as her emerald eyes looked at him. She finally seemed to relax for the first time since he'd stepped through the door. Nodding slowly her eyes darted around the room before landing back on him. "Do you want this assignment?"

He shrugged and fiddled with the hem of his shirt; he really didn't know. On one hand he'd been ready to tell them to go screw themselves when they'd suggested it, which admittedly just showed how twisted his morals really were considering Hammond was right about him having done far more distasteful things than that; he'd killed people, a lot of them and it didn't nearly weigh as heavily on his conscience as the prospect of this assignment did. Sure, he had nightmares about some of his missions, about the lives he'd taken but he'd hardly ever hesitated to take the job when it had been offered. On the other hand he was afraid of what might happen if he didn't take this one. Not because of the consequences of his career but something had told him all along that the three freaks he'd saved from the ice were trouble. He'd thought he'd be happy to leave them behind and move on, get back to his original assignment and take his men out to the Arctic but now that he'd been given the choice he couldn't help but wonder if maybe that would be worse.

"You don't know?" There was a hint of disbelief in her voice when she posed the question and Jack had to admit to himself that she made a valid point; whenever they did this, he always had arguments one way or another but now he didn't know what to do.

"I honestly don't," he admitted softly, looking at the ground instead of her familiar face.

"I guess there's a first for everything," she replied with a bit of wonder in her tone, but he could also hear a hint of amusement. She probably wanted to joke about how she'd never thought this day would come but seeing how torn he was about this, she didn't and he was glad for it. "You said it's not that dangerous… but is it important?"

Jack nodded slowly, his brown eyes finding her green ones again. "Yes, I think it is." He couldn't help but compare her eyes to those hard and pained blue ones of the astronaut or the inquiring yet annoyed ones of the archeologist. God, he was getting soft in his old age… he'd even told one of the airmen to bring the trio clean BDUs before he'd left, knowing her scrubs couldn't be warm or comfortable enough. His mind was telling him they were just three people, three wackos but his gut told him they were trouble, especially that brainiac astronaut. It was still hard to believe they were somehow from a different timeline where things weren't supposed to be the way they were now and it was confusing as hell, but Hank Landry's question as Jack stepped onto the plane still rang in his ears.

_Would you really trust someone else with your son's fate?_

"Can someone else do it?" Sara's voice broke through his musings. "I'm just asking," she hastily added, probably not wanting him to think she was trying to talk him out of it but the only reason he'd looked up sharply was because he'd been pulled out of his thoughts.

That was the million-dollar question and he, Colonel Jack O'Neill didn't know the answer. Or maybe he did but he just didn't want to acknowledge it. Maybourne had delighted in rubbing his nose in the assignment – as had Hank, he was sure – but had happily rattled off a few other names that could be Jack's replacement and for the first time in years he felt like making a list with arguments for each and every one of them. If whoever took the assignment failed and the trio had been speaking the truth then life as they knew it would be over and Jack couldn't accept that; he couldn't accept a world where his son had shot himself with _his_ gun when he was just a kid. "Maybe," he admitted. "I've got some names I have to go through to see if they're capable."

She nodded with understanding and stood up, left the room and apparently ended their conversation. Before he could object or follow her she'd come back though, with two Guinness in her hands and a soft smile on her face. "Let's just relax for now," she suggested, gesturing at the couch and the TV.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunday<br>Hangar, Elmendorf AFB  
>Anchorage, Alaska<strong>

Sam sat quietly in her seat at the table, hugging the warm BDU jacket she'd gotten this morning as this reality's General Landry – who was retired – explained how he'd been called in by the President to give his two cents on their story. Despite her earlier suspicions she was still a bit surprised to learn the brass actually believed them! She'd more or less assumed it because they continued to hold and question her but she couldn't be a hundred percent sure, and repeatedly being asked the same questions had made her doubt in how far they were convinced she was telling the truth. But when they started delving more into specifics, like the technology they'd encountered, what she'd been working on and where all the good and bad aliens were living she realized they'd tipped their hand; she could imagine what they were after and with their treatment not improving, Sam had held back and stopped cooperating.

When they'd dragged her out of her cell this morning and passed by the door of her interrogation room she'd briefly wondered if they finally had enough of her and were going to take more extreme measures. Back in her own timeline that meant breaking some laws and guidelines when it came to interrogating prisoners but she had no idea if those existed here and even back home those boundaries had been crossed when it came to terrorists… instead, she'd been steered towards the table in the middle of the hangar and that had quickly been followed by Daniel and Cam being escorted there as well!

Cameron didn't look any worse for wear, although he did seem a bit pale, tired and obviously hadn't shaved in weeks nor was he his chatty self. Then again, none of them had said a word, not with the two SFs flanking them, each with a hand pressing down on their shoulders to keep them in their seats – almost as if they were scared they'd jump up, take them out and make a run for it. But Daniel… poor Daniel looked awful! She was beyond relieved to see they were both still alive, but it was clear Daniel was still suffering. He was in a wheelchair but despite the blanket covering his lap she could tell his lower left leg had been amputated. The usual sparkle of joy, mirth or pure curiosity in his eyes was gone and instead his wonderful, lively blue eyes were just empty now. Sam couldn't imagine how he was dealing with everything; being isolated, the amputation, not knowing what had happened to their loved ones… losing Jack.

It was different for Cameron because he was military too and he'd lost friends in the line of duty before, had been in a terrible accident himself. But even though Daniel wasn't the same naïve young and disheveled doctor she'd met on Abydos, he was still more sensitive and he'd already lost so many people in his life. He hadn't really chosen this life, not until he'd been more or less forced when his wife, Sha're had been abducted by Apophis. If Sam hadn't worked side by side with him for over ten years, watched him grow and knew what he'd gone through she'd have thought he wasn't cut out for this; he was supposed to be researching history and the most dangerous place he'd have to go to was a dig somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Instead he risked his life every day to keep Earth and other planets safe.

No words had been spoken since she'd been brought here but silence was implied by the glaring – and armed – SFs. Luckily for her she was more or less used to these kinds of situations and had become quite adept at reading her former teammates to see how they were doing. With a small nod Cameron let her know he was all right and she focused her gaze back at Daniel. He was one of her best friends – closer than her own brother – and they'd clicked almost right away when they first met, and now with all the years they'd known each other and worked together they could communicate with just their eyes, like she could with Jack and Teal'c too. His blue gaze told her he was in pain, emotional and physical but he was hanging in there and he silently inquired how she was doing. She gave him her usual answer – she was fine – because they couldn't afford anything else. Cam had been right when they'd been on the ship; they needed her here and now.

She hated the treatment they'd been given so far but she could understand it, especially since this world didn't seem to have a Stargate Program unlike all the other alternate realities they'd encountered over the years. Sure, there were plenty of alien societies that didn't use a 'gate but that wasn't the same. This reality, this timeline they were in reminded her of when she'd been experimenting with Merlin's phase-shift cloaking technology and had accidentally ended up in an alternate reality where Landry had been President and everyone was living under martial law. There had been a lot of differences between the realities but they'd had the Stargate Program in common; this timeline hadn't even heard of a Stargate until they'd tumbled out of the wormhole and were picked up off the ice.

One thing she'd gotten over the past few weeks though was time; a lot of time to think during kelno'reem. Sam knew she was being watched so even if she'd had the means and opportunity to write her thoughts down she wouldn't have. For most of her life she'd been accused of thinking too much and that habit had saved her six plenty of times since she'd joined the SGC. It hadn't been any different this time around; she'd gone through all the possibilities of how this could have happened and although she'd shared some of her early theories with her interrogators, she'd been keeping most of it to herself. They'd already lost so much time with these pointless interviews that she couldn't afford anyone to stop her once she got her hands on the 'gate to undo what had been done and return to the original timeline…

Sam was pulled from her musings when her former commander finally stopped talking about himself and a heavy silence descended upon the hangar. Looking up, Landry seemed in good spirits as he stood in front of their table and he finally signaled the SFs to take a few steps back from them – but not too far. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and she got a bad feeling when he smiled at them; it was possible he was being purposely nice to them or maybe he was genuinely trying to compensate for their treatment so far but she didn't trust him and from the way Cam and Daniel shifted in their seats she knew they felt the same way.

"You should eat something," Landry said in what wasn't quite an order but not an invitation either. "Oh come on, you've been here for quite some time now. If we were trying to poison you we could have done so already," he joked. "See, I'm eating it too."

Sam shrugged in response and she knew Cameron wouldn't eat anything either. Daniel, however, seemed to change gears and adopted his usual role of diplomat and friendly alien traveler by leaning forward, grabbing a sandwich – which she knew he wouldn't eat; they'd learned that early on at the SGC – and smiling in a friendly manner.

"I'm sure you all have a lot of questions," Landry looked at them with raised brows, gesturing with his plate as if it was an invitation.

Cam cleared his throat, his gaze briefly connecting with hers before he turned back to the man in front of him. "Oh, you mean it's our turn now, Sir?"

He chuckled softly, laughing it off as a joke and nodded. "That's why I'm here. From what you've told us I'm the sort of man who would understand."

Sam frowned slightly, her gut churning at his bemused attitude, as if he was teasing and indulging them.

"You'll have to forgive me, Ms Carter," he smiled at her. "I was at your memorial service on the front lawn of the White House. I imagine you're an extraordinary person in whatever timeline you happen to be in."

His lack of title when referring to her was upsetting, but she had expected it after the numerous 'interviews' she'd undergone and really, she and her accomplishments didn't belong here anyway. His attempt at flattery annoyed her though; she'd never expect any special praise for doing her job and those that knew her were aware of that. "Does this mean you believe us, Sir?" She asked instead.

"Well," Landry sighed dramatically and took another bite of his food before answering. "Mission Commander Carter died in a shuttle crash four years ago, yet here you are; Doctor Daniel Jackson is alive and well in Egypt and yet I am looking at him right now. I take it that in your timeline you're not a discredited whack-job living on the fringes of society?"

Sam ignored the small talk he was making with Daniel, her gaze cast down at her hands and her mind going light-years a minute as she processed this new bit of information. From the moment this reality's Colonel O'Neill had found them on the ice she'd known her counterpart was dead but she hadn't heard anything about the guys or their counterparts these past few weeks. Now she could discard several more theories about what had happened because her Daniel was alive and well, and apparently so was his counterpart. That meant there was no temporal entropic cascade failure or he would've been dead within days if not hours – something she'd worried about.

Normally the increased entropy generated by duplicate people existing in the same reality would cause temporal distortion, like Doctor Carter had experienced nine years ago when she came through the quantum mirror. And about two years ago multiple SG teams from different realities had come through the 'gate but there hadn't been any entropic cascade failure, which Sam and about twenty of her counterparts had theorized was because of the proximity of the various alternate realities in relation to each other. Clearly this proved that they were truly in an alternate timeline and not just an alternate reality due to some glitch with the 'gate because this reality would have been so far removed from her own since there were too many differences – the lack of a Stargate Program for one.

"General not that I need to make this all about me, but-"

Landry chuckled at Cam's question and gestured with his coffee cup. "You don't exist. There's no known Cameron Mitchell fitting your description anywhere. There was one Mitchell of note who served in the Merchant Marine in the late '30s, though."

He frowned and cast a questioning look her way, but Sam just shrugged and then suddenly his face lit up. "My grandfather! He was the captain of the ocean freighter _Achilles_, that's how I knew the name! I have a picture of him next to the ship in the Boston Harbor in my locker at the base."

"Wow." Sam winced as realization dawned on her and at the same time she felt the usual thrill that came with witnessing something the laws of physics say can't possibly be witnessed. In the past she'd sometimes gotten carried away with said thrill but over the years she'd learned to tamp it down – mostly due to Jack O'Neill – and consider the circumstances and people involved first. "Cam, you're literally a grandfather paradox." Seeing his confusion, she explained. "_Achilles_ never made it back to the States so your grandfather never sired your father and thus you were never born here."

"That's what Doctor Lee said too," Landry commented.

Sam's eyes immediately found Daniel's at the mention of Bill Lee's name and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing. She'd named a few of the brilliant minds she'd worked with at the SGC and Atlantis so Landry or whoever was behind the interrogations could call them in so she could explain it to them in the hopes they could back her up, even if it was all only in theory. However, no one she'd seen had seemed to grasp the concept and seeing how the questions had remained the same she'd assumed they hadn't bothered. By the looks of it Daniel had tried the same thing and they shared a small smile before Landry interrupted the moment.

"Yes, it took us a while to locate some of the people you two had named and then they had to be convinced to help us after passing a screening and getting security clearance. Luckily Doctor Lee was one of the few physicists who was capable and signed the non-disclosure agreement."

It probably shouldn't surprise her that not everyone was the same – or even existed – in this timeline but she hadn't really thought about considering it was out of her hands once she'd given them the names. Still, Dr Lee? He certainly was a brilliant scientist, skilled in many areas and from her experience also very enthusiastic about his work but physics wasn't his area of expertise. "What about Rodney McKay?"

Landry smirked in bemusement at her question. "The only person that fit his description is M. Rodney McKay and unless you're looking for funding, I highly doubt a concert pianist can help you."

"Funding?" Sam wondered aloud; she wasn't really surprised at his choice of career after learning more about this timeline but the funding comment threw her.

"Oh yes, Mr McKay is quite a fan of yours. Or I should say of Mission Commander Carter," he replied with a twinkle in his eyes. "He made several large donations to NASA and even funded the search and rescue mission after _Intrepid_ crashed."

"That's just creepy," Cam muttered.

Deciding to get back on track, Sam sighed and turned to Landry. "Sir, I realize that it may be extremely difficult if not impossible to recover the Stargate from the bottom of the Arctic Ocean but-"

"There is another one?" he questioned, glancing at Cameron. "I was told we're sending a team to check out the location in Antarctica."

"We need to do more than just check it out," Daniel argued, gesturing wildly now that they were back on topic. "We need to use it, we have to set things right!"

Landry simply raised his brows and took another sip of coffee. "How exactly?"

"I've been thinking about this," Sam answered. "Now, Ba'al must have used a temporal device, a… a time machine," she tried to simplify. "If we have the 'gate then we should-"

"Not going to happen," he shook his head.

Daniel frowned and threw his uneaten sandwich back on the table, apparently having decided playing nice wasn't working very well. "Sir, I don't think you understand exactly what will be lost if we're not allowed to return things to the way they're supposed to be."

"'Supposed to be' is relative, Mr Jackson," Landry countered with narrowed eyes.

Sam held up her hand to stave off a speech she felt was coming. "The allies we've met, the technologies we've acquired, hundreds of planets we've visited-"

"We can do all that assuming we can recover the Stargate," he simply replied. "Assuming it does what you say it does. There are a lot of excited people who can't wait to explore the galaxy."

"With respect, Sir, you're missing the point. The timeline was altered by one of our enemies," Sam tried to explain in a not-so respectful tone.

Landry seemed to contemplate this for a while, his head slowly bobbing up and down as he peered into his coffee cup. "Hmm, the System Lord Ba'al. You all talked about him at some length."

Daniel nodded in agreement. "Because he's a very real threat."

"We disagree; according to your stories the Stargate has been missing for over seventy years. If all this is part of some plan then where is he, eh?"

"Man has a point," Cameron conceded.

Sam couldn't believe he'd actually said that and glared at him, but before she could say anything Daniel was already talking.

"Okay, if his plan was to take over Earth he would first have to reestablish a power base with the other System Lords. Now, that wouldn't be easy–"

"Or he's still in the process of establishing his power and it's just a matter of time," she interrupted her friend. "Goa'uld can live for centuries, millennia even if they have access to hosts and sarcophagi; seventy years is nothing to them."

Landry seemed fed up with the discussion and finally put his plate and cup down on the table. "Look, this is as far as we're willing to go; in exchange for signing a non-disclosure agreement you'll be given new identities and a place to live. In different parts of the country for obvious reasons. And you," he looked at Sam, "better behave in public otherwise you'll end up on the front page of _The Enquirer_."

"You're making a big mistake, Sir," Sam replied, shaking her head.

He didn't seem to be worried at all and simply smiled at them. "The decision has been made at the highest level. I'm sure that in time your advice will be welcome. If and when the Navy gets this Stargate up and running maybe you can come aboard as consultants."

"The Navy?" Sam repeated in confusion.

Cam's eyes found hers before he looked back at Landry. "You're giving the 'gate to the squids? Oh come on, you might as well start building a statue of Ba'al right now if they're going to be in charge of defending the planet!"

"It's out of my hands," Landry merely stated. "But you will never, ever be allowed to step through that thing."

Sam snorted in derision, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're afraid we're going to try and repair the timeline."

"Oh you've made your intentions abundantly clear-"

"Because we have a responsibility," Daniel nearly yelled, slamming his hand on the tabletop.

That seemed to be the wrong move as Landry turned slightly red and his eyes widened in outrage. "But you don't have the _right_!" He yelled angrily. "If you were to succeed events in the lives of thousands if not millions or people would never have happened! My goodness people, the arrogance of what you're asking us to help you do is mind-boggling!"

Sam had never seen him like this and although she could understand his anger there was more at stake than he thought; the entire planet was at risk if Ba'al got here and everything they'd done in the original timeline had never happened here. All their work from the past decade or so gone! The people they'd met, befriended and some even liberated from the Goa'uld, planets they'd saved, Jaffa no longer enslaved but free to build their own nation and all her work in the past year at Atlantis… all for nothing! She was about to say something when Landry, visibly calmed opened his mouth again.

"Trust me, if you lived in this timeline…"

"We'd want it to stay the way it is," Cameron muttered with his head down.

Looking at her former teammates Sam caught Daniel's gaze from across the table. It was good to know he was still on her side, she could see the fire and indignation in his eyes and she knew he'd help her with whatever plan she could come up with. Cam however shook his head, seemingly resigned with the situation or maybe Landry's speech had convinced him… she wasn't sure, all she knew was that this was unacceptable and there were more things to consider than personal feelings. This timeline shouldn't have existed in the first place and if it wasn't for Ba'al they would have never been in this situation.

"Well, if you'll excuse me I'd like to go back to my very pleasant retirement," Landry smirked and signaled the SFs. "Get them to back to their rooms."

* * *

><p><strong>Monday<br>McChord AFB  
>Washington<strong>

Jack sighed as he signaled and changed lanes in his car, making his way out of the base. Yesterday he'd gone over the names for his possible replacement on the assignment regarding the astronaut and one by one he'd crossed them off his mental list. The first runner up was, of course, Colonel Frank Cromwell the man who'd once been his friend but had left him behind to spend four months in a prison in Iraq. No way in hell Jack was going to trust that guy to do anything right and certainly not if his son's life was at risk. Then of course there was another familiar face that couldn't be trusted; Burke, who'd killed their mutual friend Woods on a mission, claiming friendly fire but the whole story sounded like a piece of crap. Colonel Louis Ferretti was also an old friend of his but only a few months ago Lou's wife-to-be had told Sara that he too had put in for reassignment now that he was going to get married and Jack didn't want to fuck that up for him.

Colonel Makepeace had been another option but despite working with the man successfully a few times Jack thought he was a bit shady. He'd heard even worse stories about a Major Hanson who was reportedly bonkers, but even those kinds of guys could be used for some ops. Lieutenant Colonel Beck was someone Jack had known from an op out of Turkey during the Gulf War but he'd heard the man was waiting out his retirement job at the Air Force Academy in Colorado... Dave Dixon had four kids and a fifth on the way so there was no way Jack would want him to babysit the astronaut for a couple of months if not longer and miss the birth of his kid. The last one was Lieutenant Colonel Henry Boyd, someone Jack had trained but the guy had only been married for a couple of years, had a daughter and was deeply religious…

Even if all the men were unattached and available Jack still didn't think he could step aside and let them take the assignment. None of them had a personal stake in this as far as he knew and even after spending yesterday playing hockey with his kid to distract himself and relax, he'd been unable to get Landry's words out of his mind.

_Would you really trust someone else with your son's fate?_

He suspected he'd already made the decision before he even left Alaska, before he'd talked it through with Sara but had been unable to acknowledge it in his head. As they'd gone to bed Saturday night his wife had told him the decision was up to him but that she wouldn't mind him being safer and stateside, especially if that meant he'd be home more often. Jack hadn't had the heart to tell her he wasn't sure how many times he'd be able to visit and instead he'd slipped under the covers, wrapped his arms around her and drifted off to sleep. Before sunrise he'd awoken though, nightmares about his son dying in front of him or just going 'poof' making him thrash around and he'd quickly slipped out before Sara would wake up.

Later that morning he'd picked up the phone and called General Hammond to grudgingly tell him he'd do it. Even if the assignment went against every fiber of his being Jack simply didn't trust anyone else to have his son's best interest at heart, certainly not the man who'd called himself the closest thing to a best friend or the woman who'd shrugged and simply mentioned something about not everything being the same after hearing his kid never shot himself – both of whom were now pleading to be allowed to change the timeline!

No, that was not going to happen. So Jack had taken the flight to Washington where the trio would arrive in a couple of hours, had endured a few more hours of being briefed on his assignment and was now on his way to the astronaut's new house. Her new identity papers would be ready tomorrow and unlike the two men, she'd be staying in this state and live in a rather small town under a new name. The NID and the OSI had arranged for security equipment to be installed at her new place and he'd decided to check it out before she'd move in.


	4. Day One of a New Life

**Day One  
>Interview room, McChord AFB<br>Lakewood, Washington**

For the first time since she'd been taken into custody someone was waiting for Sam when she was shoved into another interview room. It looked very similar to the one in Alaska and even the camera was standing in the same position. If she hadn't been put on a plane yesterday and arrived here, she probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the rooms. Following procedure she took place on the only empty chair in the room, facing the camera and sitting across from the man and woman at the table.

"Miss Carter?"

Sam nodded at the woman's question, wondering what was going on. She couldn't have been back from the infirmary for more than an hour before she'd been dragged here and she highly doubted it had something to do with test results, especially since neither of them looked like a doctor. She hadn't told anyone about the naquadah or the protein left behind in her blood after her ordeal with Jolinar because she knew that would only make them even more interested in her – she could only pray Daniel and Cam hadn't said anything either. It was very unlikely it would be discovered by these doctors and their standard tests because, unlike in her own timeline, these people had no idea what to look for.

The naquadah in her blood had been recognized by Janet and her staff because they'd seen it in Cassandra when she'd first come to Earth and back then it was only identified after thorough blood testing and physical exams and had been matched to the material the Stargate was made of. The protein left behind from Jolinar dying inside of her was just a regular protein but could be used as a marker to identify previous hosts whose symbiotes had died and wouldn't show up in normal blood testing. But since these were all unfamiliar concepts here Sam wasn't expecting them to find anything.

It would take weeks to do a proper protein analysis by separating and isolating the protein factor from the rest of her blood, then they'd have to identify every single protein and determine its structure and function by comparing it to all the different protein databanks and even if they'd do that they still wouldn't know what it was or where it came from. They might suspect it was alien but how were they going to prove it? Besides, she highly doubted the Elmendorf infirmary was equipped to do such experiments. No, Sam wasn't worried they'd discover it on their own and if they had miraculously done so she'd probably be locked up in some medical lab for experimentation rather than escorted to an interview room…

"I'm Special Agent Wood and this is my partner, Special Agent Lucas," the woman introduced them. "We were told you had been informed about your options and you've decided to sign the non-disclosure agreement in order to start a new life under a different identity, is that correct?"

"Yes Ma'am," Sam replied. After weeks in custody she was still feeling a bit unbalanced, but finally realized why she was here and decided playing nice would probably be in her best interest at the moment if she wanted to get out of here.

The man, SA Lucas took over. "We're with the Air Force Office of Special Investigations and have been assigned as your handlers. There are certain conditions listed in the contract you have to agree to as well that aren't necessarily part of keeping your identity secret…"

She nodded her understanding and tuned him out as he went over the details of who she was allowed to contact and people and locations she had to stay away from. Someone from the NID had already gone over this with her before Maybourne had taken them aboard the C-130 yesterday. Even though Daniel and Cam had both been in the plane with her they hadn't been allowed to talk or interact and when they'd touched down here they had been immediately separated. They hadn't even gotten to say goodbye to each other and General Kennedy had informed her this morning that both of them had already been sent to their new homes last night. She was the last one to leave because her medical checkup had been scheduled for this morning and now they were awaiting transport to her new place.

"… Nimiziki, the same doctor who did your exam this morning; so if you have a medical emergency you have to contact the base and ask for him because he'll be your primary physician from now on," Lucas explained.

When Sam had first been brought to the infirmary in Alaska she'd feared for a moment that maybe she'd get a familiar doctor after running into Jack's counterpart. But it hadn't been Carolyn Lam – although if Landry was still married she'd probably go by Landry, not her mother's maiden name – and if she recalled correctly the young doctor had worked for the CDC before joining the SGC in their timeline, so most likely that's where she was here too. If Janet Fraiser was still alive here then she'd probably still be in Texas, maybe never even divorced that husband of hers. Both women had been specifically hired by the SGC because of their expertise in exotic and infectious diseases and as far as Sam knew neither of them had ever considered a different career, unlike McKay and Lee.

"If you feel all of this is becoming too much and want to talk to a professional you can contact us and we'll get Doctor MacKenzie for you, who's been involved in this situation from the beginning," SA Wood added.

Sam hadn't really expected to encounter MacKenzie again though or Nimiziki, who she'd only met briefly before Kawalsky had killed him at the SGC. "I don't think that will be necessary," she replied with a polite smile. Not even with Jolinar had she willingly gone to MacKenzie and there wasn't a chance in hell she'd go to see the shrink now. It would be foolish of Landry and the NID to expect her to talk to MacKenzie and spill her guts about everything, because there was no way she'd trust him to keep doctor-patient confidentiality in this case.

A knock sounded on the door and SA Wood excused herself to see what it was about, leaving Sam alone with the rather wary Special Agent Lucas. For lack of conversation he handed her the non-disclosure agreement and, since she'd already read it through yesterday Sam quickly signed the papers and handed them back when he held out his hands. An uncomfortable silence was hanging between them by the time the woman returned.

"It's time to go, your transportation is here and we can continue the specifics of the agreement you've signed on the bus," Wood informed them after casting a glance at the signed paperwork. "I will bring you back to your quarters where some more casual clothes will be waiting, while SA Lucas waits in the bus for us, okay?"

Grateful she wouldn't have to keep wearing the BDUs anymore, Sam followed her lead and with two SFs 'escorting' them they made their way through the corridors to her cell. Once inside she quickly discarded the BDUs and put on the jeans, top and blouse that were waiting for her. She'd been allowed a five-minute shower this morning before her exam, had gotten a clean set of standard issued underwear and the chance to brush her hair too, so now she was finally feeling somewhat human again. The clothes were a bit too large, but she thought that might be because she'd lost weight from the weeks in custody since everything seemed to be her size. Once she was dressed she knocked on the door, hoping they could get out of here and luckily it opened ten seconds later and Special Agent Wood peeked inside.

"Ready to go?"

"Oh yeah," Sam muttered.

Five minutes later they got on a base bus and SA Wood motioned for her to sit in the back and quickly followed herself, sitting on a seat in front of her. The woman's partner, SA Lucas was sitting near the bus driver probably in case she got the crazy idea to overpower Wood and attack the driver or something. Sam didn't really care; she just enjoyed the sunshine and watching her surroundings after being held in custody for over five weeks.

"Your new identity papers will arrive later today or tomorrow," Woods started again, before focusing on the long list of conditions mentioned in the non-disclosure agreement. "You will be provided a suitable home, vehicle, and a living allowance, which may be augmented without penalty should you choose to seek employment in any field other than the following: astrophysics, aerospace, engineering, quantum mechanics, biology, chemistry, mathematics, computer engineering and computer programming. Anything that places you in the public eye is also off-limits. If you wish to purchase a computer or similar technology you are to request it via your handlers or your Air Force contact and the same goes for possible jobs which have to be screened properly. As we mentioned before, all medical related matters will have to go through Doctor Nimiziki at McChord Air Force Base; you can contact him directly if you are in need of emergency medical assistance or contact us. Under no circumstances are you to contact friends or family members of Mission Commander Carter without permission or confide your true identity to anyone other than authorized personnel. Is this clear?"

"Yes Ma'am," Sam muttered, rolling her eyes. She briefly wondered what kind of work they expected her to find with all the limitations they'd given her because she'd go crazy if she didn't have a job to distract her from the reality she'd found herself in.

Suddenly Special Agent Lucas stood up and came into their direction. "We're here," he announced, gesturing at the parking lot they found themselves on. "From here you'll get into that taxi which will take you to your new place. We can't accompany you there to prevent drawing attention to you or ourselves but someone is watching the house and will expect you there in forty-five minutes. The taxi driver is one of ours too, so he knows what's expected from him. If you screw this up you go back into custody, do you understand that Ms Carter?"

"Yes Sir," she replied, already getting up from her seat and taking the bag and papers SA Wood handed her. "What's this?" She asked when the woman handed her a small black case too.

Special Agent Wood shrugged. "Open it."

"Glasses? But I don't need-"

"They're fakes," Lucas interrupted her. "Non-prescription glasses for when you go out; it might make the resemblance between you and Mission Commander Carter less obvious."

Sam frowned, but obediently pocketed them even if she wasn't planning on wearing them. Like a pair of glasses would make her look so very different! If anything it might make it more suspicious, she thought, as if she was trying to disguise herself. "Well, only forty-two minutes left, I should probably hurry," she said sweetly as she squeezed past him and left the bus.

* * *

><p><strong>Briefing Room<br>McChord AFB  
>Lakewood, Washington<strong>

Jack checked his watch as he found himself in the briefing room and realized he was actually five minutes early. With a shrug he dismissed the young airman that had escorted him here and walked over to the table, and sat down. By taking this new assignment Lt Gen Hammond remained his CO and the Texan had notified him of this meeting yesterday. If everything had gone according to plan the astronaut would be well on her way to her new house now and as soon as he got the word he'd have to drop by and see how she was settling in. He still hadn't decided how he was going to insert himself in her life but he figured he'd listen to his instincts. The only problem was that she had apparently worked alongside his counterpart for years and he wasn't sure how well she'd be able to read him.

After four minutes General Hammond walked into the room, followed by a geeky scientist and what looked like his assistant carrying a silver case. Jack stood at his CO's entry but the man immediately waved him down, leaving him to plop down inelegantly on the chair. "Sir."

"Colonel O'Neill, this is Doctor Jay Felger and his research assistant Chloe Angstrom."

The brown-haired man smiled at him and enthusiastically leaned over the table to offer his hand. "Nice to meet you, Colonel!"

Giving a curt nod, he grimaced. "Howdy," he muttered, ignoring the hand. After taking in the white lab coats he looked back at the General. "Scientists, Sir?"

"Yes, son," Hammond sat down at the head of the table and gestured for the two geeks to do the same. "Now, they are not aware of the specifics of your assignment because of security clearance issues, however Doctor Felger here is our computer specialist and has assembled and programmed a computer for your… charge."

Oh yes, now he remembered; the higher ups feared what Carter might do when left to her own devices and thus they'd come up with a plan to keep her away from computers as much as was possible these days and provide her with one that would keep track of all her activities and would send reports back to them, or something. It wasn't really his area of expertise but he knew it meant the NID and the OSI could keep tabs on her and probably access it remotely as well. "Ah, a computer you say."

Felger bobbed his head eagerly, leaning heavily on the tabletop as if to contain his enthusiasm. "Yes, Colonel. I've taken control of assembling the laptop myself and have inserted certain protocols and preprogrammed some spywa–"

"Ack!"

"Ah… and other software," Felger stammered after the interruption.

Jack motioned towards the case the assistant was still holding with a jerk of his head. "That it?"

The man prodded the young woman in the side, hissing a "Chloe!" before grabbing the case himself and opening it on the table. "Yes, see; state of the art! It has all the bells and whistles and records every keystroke and mouse click, tracks-"

"Yeah, yeah," he made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "As long as it works."

"Oh, I promise it does, Colonel!" Felger vowed with a hand on his heart. "Trust me, Avenger…" he caught himself and smiled, trying to explain. "I've called it Project Avenger after a comic book I read when I was a kid. The Amazing Avenger? Green tights, purple cape. He was super strong, super fast. You know, not as fast as the Flash that would be ridicu-Ow!"

Chloe the assistant had apparently given him a swift kick to the shins under the table because he yelped and glared at her. "Jay!" She just urged him, smacking his arm lightly before pointedly looking over at an exasperated Hammond.

"Oh yes, it works," he concluded sheepishly.

"Thank God," Jack muttered under his breath. He'd been close to kicking the man himself! "Then I'll take that with me," he reached over and took the case as Chloe shoved it towards him.

Felger also pushed a folder across the table. "Colonel, here are the specifics of Project Avenger. Colonel Maybourne already has a copy, but once you power it up you ca-"

"Yes, thank you, Doctor Felger," Hammond interrupted the geek. "And you too, Ms Angstrom."

"But Sir-"

"Dismissed, Doctor," the general added.

Chloe grabbed his arm and nearly pulled him from the chair. "Thank you, Sirs. Come on, Jay."

"So…" Jack mumbled, waiting for the pair to have left the room to receive further instructions. "Let's just hope this works, otherwise Folger might come back."

"Doctor _Felger_," Hammond corrected, "does have four post-graduate degrees and is supposedly the best one for the job."

Well, he wasn't going to hold his breath. Besides, hadn't someone mentioned in one of the reports that the astronaut was a genius when it came to applied sciences? Jack wasn't sure if this guy would actually be able to go up against her when it came to computer programming, after all she'd MacGyvered a freaking dialing computer for an alien artifact! "We'll see…"

"Yes, well, on another note; I've just heard back from the OSI and Ms Carter has arrived safely at her new home."

"That's good," he replied. They'd already gotten confirmation about the other two men when he reported in this morning but the astronaut had to see her new physician before she could go out. MacKenzie had relocated near Jackson since he'd done the man's amputation and was also a qualified shrink, although Jack had the nagging suspicion none of the three visitors would willingly go to a shrink. "So she's all set?"

Hammond lifted a hand in a silent request to wait a minute and quickly opened his own briefcase and rummaged about until he found what he was looking for. "I just received her new ID and other paperwork on my way over here."

Jack accepted the package and took a peek inside. "Everything in order?"

"Yes, Colonel. I think this would also be a perfect opportunity for you to check up on Ms Carter."

He reluctantly nodded and placed the file in the case with the laptop. "Yes Sir. Anything else?"

"No son, go ahead and report back in tomorrow at oh nine hundred hours. Dismissed," General Hammond said, effectively ending the meeting.

* * *

><p><strong>Liddell Residence<br>Rainier, Washington**

It was late in the day but the sun was still shining in the back garden. After she'd been dropped off by the taxi in front of the house, Sam had given the impressive and pleasant front a quick onceover before moving inside and inspecting all the rooms – and there were many. Now she was outside in the back, looking out over the grass. The ground level house was bigger than her old place in Colorado Springs and even there she'd had more than enough space for just herself. This garden was larger too, although she'd first suspected it only seemed that way because there was nothing but grass and a high fence surrounding it, unlike the double garage she used to have. However walking around she realized it really was larger and just like the house it was bare and rather empty – funny how she could identify with an inanimate object.

She didn't have any experience with witness protection or something similar and therefore she had no idea if this house was going to be her final destination. If this was supposed to be her permanent residence though, she could make some adjustments about the house; the storage room in the garage was big enough to be her own personal gym and since there were already three bedrooms, she figured she could turn the small room between the entry and the living room into an office because it was a perfect place for her books and a couple of computers. There were two walk-in closets in the master bedroom, which she thought was a bit much especially since there was already a linen closet in the en suite bathroom too, so maybe she could tear one of those down too. It would be a win-win situation; she'd get more room in her bedroom and she could work off some of her anger and grief on the walls. And maybe, when she'd feel more like building instead of destroying she could do something nice with the garden too. It would give her something to do since it was very unlikely she'd find a job her handlers would approve of and perhaps she could even get herself a new bike. She would need transportation after all and while SA Wood and SA Lucas had mentioned 'a vehicle' there wasn't a car in the double garage – she suspected it might take a while.

Sam reached into her pocket to retrieve the small notepad and pencil she'd put there earlier. When inspecting the house earlier she'd made notes of the things she still needed, like certain furniture, appliances and curtains before she'd gone outside to escape the feeling she was being watched. She suspected the house was bugged but she had no idea to what extent or whether it was just audio or also visual. Even though she'd worked in the SGC, where almost every room and corridor had cameras, for about a decade and had just spent a year on Atlantis, she didn't like the idea of being watched in what was supposed to be her home, her safe haven. It brought up memories from when Orlin had visited Earth – the first time – and the NID had bugged her house to watch him; she'd been uncomfortable the entire time and highly aware of being watched. This time she was completely in the dark, but when the taxi had turned into her street she'd immediately spotted the so-called inconspicuous van down the street which was probably where they were monitoring her from.

Shaking off the thought she focused on the notepad, flipped to a new page and started writing down the tools and other things she'd need in shorthand. She had no idea what a 'suitable allowance' meant but she figured it would be more than enough to pay her bills, buy groceries and get the materials she'd need. She briefly wondered if whoever she was going to be owned this house or if she was renting it… she'd probably have to ask that when she got her ID and other paperwork before she'd start on her remodeling. With a sigh she walked back into the house, nearly jumping when a loud noise broke the silence. It took her a moment to realize it was the doorbell and she apprehensively walked from the dining room through the living room to the front door, hoping it weren't prying neighbors because she wasn't in the mood – hell, she wouldn't even know how to introduce herself!

"Incompetent people," Sam muttered, wondering if perhaps she should just take a peek through the peephole and if it was some stranger she'd call her handlers and demand she'd get her ID papers now. If she'd had curtains she could have at least ignored visitors and pretend she wasn't home. Her pulse quickened the closer she got to the door, but when she saw the man on the other side her heart started hammering in her chest and her hands turned sweaty. "Holy Hannah," she gasped. As she tried to control her heavy breathing he rang again, startling her. "Get a grip, Carter," she sternly told herself. "It's not really him." It was just Jack's counterpart, Colonel O'Neill. She could do this; she'd worked with Jack for eight years and had almost always been able to remain professional!

Opening the door slightly she looked at him through the crack. "Hello, Colonel."

"Er… Hi," he replied, his brow furrowed.

Sam wondered why he seemed so confused; he had to know she was living here so it would only make sense for her to open the door. Or maybe he was just ill at ease. "Can I help you with something, Sir?"

"Can I come in?" O'Neill requested. He could probably tell she was tempted to say no because he quickly held up a small bag and silver case he was holding in his hands. "I come bearing gifts," he quipped, grinning.

Reluctantly opening the door further, she moved back into the living room to let him inside. Sam bit her lip as she tried to keep herself together; she hadn't expected to see him again, not after his abrupt exit at Elmendorf, where he'd handed them over at the earliest opportunity and left without looking back. His presence had turned her mouth dry and his lopsided grin at the door made her blood hum; she could barely focus when his familiar face was suddenly in front of her again. His eyes though were different. This man looked at her differently than her Jack had. Swallowing hard, Sam pulled herself together; he probably only affected her this much because she was so unbalanced and had been incarcerated for over five weeks... "What are you doing here?" She snapped, trying to be indifferent.

"I have some stuff for you," he said defensively. Eyeing the notepad in her hand he pointed at it. "What'cha doing?"

"It's nothing," Sam mumbled, slipping it in her jeans' back pocket. "So?"

He looked at her warily but eventually handed her the bag. "Look, some lunch."

"You brought me lunch, Sir?"

O'Neill shrugged and made a dismissive gesture with his now free hand. "You don't have to 'Sir' me, you know."

"Right," she sighed, walking over to the kitchen to place the bag on the counter. "Because I'm no longer in the military." It was still hard for her to utter those words; the military had been her life and she hadn't been lying to Doctor Carter all those years ago when she'd told her she couldn't imagine not being in the Air Force. It looked like she was about to find out, though. There had been one moment in her life where she'd considered resigning; because of the fraternization regulations but like Jack, she'd quickly dismissed the idea because they both knew the military was a part of her life. No more though, after the last time she'd gone through the 'gate she'd left her military career behind her – as well as Jack.

"I actually meant because we're the same rank," his voice came from behind her.

Sam glanced over her shoulder, seeing him wince as the words left his mouth. "Oh… well, I'm sure you know they stripped me of my rank and dog tags. So, what's the real reason you're here?" She asked as she turned around, not really interested in the food. It hadn't even really registered with her that she was the same rank as her Jack's counterpart, mostly because she hadn't allowed herself to think about either Jacks.

"Your new ID, some paperwork and a computer," he replied after a beat, apparently deciding a change of subject would be best.

Her eyes fell on the case again and she quickly snatched it from him. "Good, I was just wondering when it would get here," she muttered, placing it on the counter and opening it. Hopefully the large and thick envelope would give her some of the answers she'd been looking for. "Where's the computer?"

He chuckled softly and stepped up beside her, lifting the envelope to reveal the laptop. "Don't tell me they didn't have laptops in your timeline?"

"You're kidding, right?" Sam asked after she picked it up. Up until now she hadn't realized how accustomed she'd become to all the advanced technology she used in her everyday life; not just the Asgard core, the technology on Atlantis, the dialing computers, the stuff at Area 51 or even her old lab at the SGC but also all her high tech homemade computers.

"I was assured it's the best of the best." He wagged his brows and the corners of his lips turned upwards. "Apparently it has all the bells and whistles."

"I'll bet," she muttered dryly. Even the laptop with the remote dialing program she used to carry with her off-world was more advanced than this! "I'll just go out and look for something in town… I assume this also includes bank accounts and credit cards?"

O'Neill shook his head, a small frown forming on his face. "No you're not; didn't the OSI cover the conditions for your new life with you?"

Sam closed her eyes in defeat. "Right, I have to request it via my handlers."

"Yes and what's wrong with this laptop anyway?"

"Let's just say that compared to the six computers I had at home one laptop is a bit meager," she replied after a few seconds. It might be best not to reveal too much about the technological advances they'd made. Focusing back on the envelope she turned it upside down, effectively emptying it of its content.

O'Neill walked around the bar and sat down on one of the two barstools across from her and opened the bag with food. "You should probably eat something…" He frowned again and turned his gaze on her. "What should I call you? Samantha, Carter, Colonel-"

"You've got to be kidding me," Sam groaned as she found her new ID papers. "Well, apparently you can call me Alice, Colonel."

* * *

><p>Jack raised his brows as she scowled at him. "What's wrong with Alice?" He wondered if there was anything at all this woman would be happy with; she'd made no attempts to even look at the lunch he'd brought, the laptop wasn't good enough and now there was something wrong with her new identity too?<p>

"Alice Liddell?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow.

He thought the eyebrow-thing was pretty cool and was about to ask her how she did that – it might come in handy when intimidating new recruits – when she made a show of looking around the room, and he found himself looking around as well. "Looking for something?"

"The matching dress and ribbon," she replied deadpan.

"Funny," he smirked. At least she had a sense of humor.

She walked around him, opening the sparsely filled fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. "I'm glad my name amuses you, Sir."

"You can call me Jack, you know," he said cautiously, keeping a close eye on her for any reaction. "I mean, you knew me… the other me," he frowned and ran a hand through his hair. "Crap. You've known… him for over a decade; don't tell me you never called him 'Jack'?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly but that was the only reaction he got. "He was my commanding officer for eight years, it would have been inappropriate to call him by his first name."

"Well, not on duty," he frowned, wondering if she really was such a goody two-shoes. "But off-duty you wouldn't have to refer to him by rank."

"It was easier this way," she replied noncommittally. "Besides, we didn't spend much time hanging out together off-duty."

Jack found that hard to believe; he'd usually hang out with his men and sometimes they'd even have a summer barbecue at his place. Maybe his counterpart was a stickler for rules like her and that's why he'd gotten to the rank of major general? "Huh," he muttered.

The astronaut looked funnily at him and shrugged. "In our line of work we spent a lot of hours on base or off-world together, it's nice to have some downtime to yourself."

He wasn't sure if that was the truth or not because he didn't really know her well enough yet to be able to spot a lie. She schooled her expressions very well and again he was impressed with the way she handled herself, but the whole 'off-world' comment made her sound crazy again so it balanced out nicely. "Right… so, how about some food, Samantha?" Her head snapped up, eyes flashing and he was thankful looks couldn't kill. "What? Do you prefer I call you something else?"

"Alice," she countered. "You should call me Alice, because that's my name now. Alice Liddell."

"It could have been worse, you know," he muttered when he heard the annoyance in her tone as she repeated her name.

Her eyes narrowed at him and suddenly he found the bag with food very interesting. "Are you telling me you picked the name, Colonel O'Neill?"

"Hey, it was me or Maybourne and you'd already pissed him off," Jack replied defensively.

"So I should be grateful?"

He rolled his eyes and pulled the sandwiches out of the bag. "I don't really care either way."

"I guess it could have been worse," she muttered under her breath, "Dorothy, Maggie or maybe Marge…"

Jack had no idea what she was talking about so he focused on the food. "Sit and eat, Samantha."

"Alice."

Sighing, he threw her an impatient glance. "Look, you already said you hated the name so I'm just trying to be nice here, okay Samantha? Once you go outside you have to be Alice but in here…"

"Fine, but I'd prefer it if you'd call me Sam."

"Very well, Sam," he grinned at her. He wasn't going to tell her yet that this wasn't a one-time visit nor was he going to tell her MacKenzie had suggested he'd keep calling her by her real name, to make the transition harder on her; then perhaps she'd reconsider and cooperate with them. 'Sam' suited her better than 'Samantha', he thought to himself; it was spunkier instead of the longer, more feminine name. What surprised him though was that the Mission Commander had always been called by her full first name as far as he could tell. "You should eat something."

When she turned around to grab two plates he leaned over the bar and snatched the notebook that was sticking out her back pocket from her. There were numbers and words scribbled in shorthand but he had no idea what it meant. "What does this mean?" he asked again, holding up the notepad as she unwrapped her sandwich and put it on her plate, handing him one too.

Taking her seat across from him and sniffing the sandwich, she rolled her eyes. "What's this, the infamous tuna torture?"

"No," Jack chuckled, despite himself. He grabbed his own sandwich and took a bite. "Tell me, Sam."

"It's nothing," she shrugged again. "If you must know I was thinking of doing some remodeling; those are the dimensions and materials I'll need."

He peered at the notes again and nodded slowly. "Okay," he pushed the pad back to her over the counter.

"Do I… Alice, I mean, own this house or am I going to be relocated again in the near future?"

"It's yours," Jack confirmed, throwing a meaningful look at the documents he'd brought with him. "So… nice place you've got here."

Sam, who'd only taken a tiny bite, put her sandwich back down. "It's bigger than my old house and I've just spent a full year on a military base with just sleeping quarters and an office; I have no idea what to do with all this space."

"Well, you have your stuff now," he gestured at the envelope's spilled contents. "Once you've bought some real furniture instead of this minimalistic crap it'll look a lot better. Then maybe a nice cinema system, some movies, books and you know… frilly pink stuff and clutter and it'll be fine."

"Frilly pink stuff?" She repeated with a look of disgust on her face. "Never mind... I'll have to check my allowance and finances before I start looking for furniture and books."

Jack shrugged and swallowed the last of his food before he spoke again. "Whatever, it'll be fine. You know, Sam, if you don't want all this… if you don't want to be Alice Liddell you could always take the NID up on their offer and become Mission Commander Carter."

"Please," she snorted. "I've done the whole alternate reality dead hero-routine once already and I won't do it again."

He frowned, but didn't ask any further; he didn't want to appear too eager and, if he was honest he also wasn't really in the mood to feign interest in her crazy stories. "Okay, I was just saying… Alice Liddell it is."

"You know, in the original story it was just Alice," she replied after a minute.

"Well, I figured you'd need a last name too and after all your tales I thought this was appropriate," he grinned. She offered a wan smile and he realized maybe it was too early to call her bonkers and joke about her previous life. "I should get going… ah, don't worry; I can let myself out," Jack said as she started to get up. He could tell she was tired; exhaustion was probably creeping in now that she was finally out of her quarters. "Bye Sam," he called over his shoulder before going through the living room and out of the door.

He was gone so fast he didn't even hear her reply, but that was okay; he had to check in with the security detail and see if everything was in order. Yesterday he'd checked out the house – and filled the fridge with necessities – as they'd been installing the bugs but she had already moved certain things around and he had to make sure everything was still working as it should. After peering over his shoulder he saw that Sam was still in the kitchen, looking at her plate so he quickly jogged over to the van before she could see him. He announced himself with a knock and pulled open the door.

"Colonel O'Neill," one of the men greeted him.

"How's everything working?" He asked, glancing at the monitors and seeing Sam hadn't moved an inch from her seat.

The man fiddled with some equipment and nodded. "Excellent Sir; we have a clear view of the living room and kitchen and could hear you five by five."

Jack's eyes fell on the screen as Samantha Carter got up from her seat to throw out the half-eaten sandwich he'd brought and he could clearly hear it as she stacked the plates and placed them in the sink. Then she moved back with a pensive expression on her face and looked at the documents on the counter. She picked up the ID and seemed to stare at it for a few seconds before she let out a deep sigh and seemingly mused aloud. _"If only it was just a crazy adventure in Wonderland from which I could wake up…"_


	5. Day Five of a New Life

**Day Five  
>Liddel Residence<br>Rainier, Washington**

It was late in the afternoon when Sam finally had a quiet moment to herself. The last of today's furniture had been delivered and the men had just left her house after they'd been kind enough to carry the cheap bed she'd been provided with to one of the guest rooms. Normally she would've done it herself but while she was doing fine, she wasn't back to her full strength yet after the treatment of the past five weeks. Since Colonel O'Neill – she'd decided it was safest to think of him like that – had dropped by a few days ago, she'd started looking through her finances and making lists of the stuff she was going to need. He had been right when he said there was mostly minimalistic crap in the house and she was determined to change that if she was going to have to live here for who knew how long it would take her to right the timeline.

She'd set a high but not impossible goal for herself and she was smart enough to know it wasn't going to be easy, especially not since the Stargate was still off-limits to her – if the Navy had even managed to find it. That meant she would be stuck here until she succeeded, unless the powers that be decided otherwise or if Ba'al were to show up. Either way, there wasn't a quick, easy solution so she was settling in for the long haul because completing the mission was going to require careful preparations and a strategy her handlers or the NID wouldn't see coming. For that reason she was going to need all her concentration, energy and brainpower and thus she'd decided to make her temporary living arrangements as comfortable as possible. Besides, it would probably look good in the eyes of whoever was watching her too; it would delude them into thinking she was resigned to her fate.

Her new bed had arrived today and she was already looking forward to a good night's rest, because so far she hadn't been sleeping very well. Of course she tried to blame it on the cheap mattress but she knew it had more to do with the situation she found herself in, in this house and without the guys… losing Jack. A night hadn't gone by or she was back in that extraction chamber, reliving what had happened as Ba'al had managed to get loose and stab Jack with that needle. Watching as Jack lay there on the cold, dusty floor with his blood slowly pooling beneath him and staining his clothes. His breathing getting heavier… she hadn't been able to do anything as he strained to get his last words out; not words of love but his last order, to get herself to the 'gate, to safety.

Sam snorted to herself, tears starting to burn her eyes as she cast a glance at her surroundings; safety. If only he'd known where he was sending her to, then maybe he wouldn't have made her leave him behind and she could've stayed with him. Deep down she'd always thought they'd die together in the field or maybe, in a better world together in bed when they were old and frail…

A strangled sob escaped her as the memory of Jack's lifeless face with his dimmed dark eyes staring into nothingness resurfaced. The vivid image made her gasp, a sharp jab of pain ripping through her and she cursed herself for following his pleading command. She should have shrugged off Cam's arm; she should have stayed at Jack's side as the timeline was altered. At least then they would have been together in the end and she wouldn't be hurting so damn much! Her hands started shaking with suppressed grief and she quickly darted into the en suite bathroom, one of the few places in the house that probably wasn't bugged. She pulled off the cap she'd been wearing to somewhat mask her appearance and angrily wiped at her eyes as the first tears trailed down her cheeks.

Moaning softly, she slid down against the door until she was sitting the floor. Wrapping her arms around her legs, Sam tried to bury her face in her knees. Her shoulders started shaking as violent sobs racked through her body and she whimpered against the barrage of emotions; sadness, hurt, guilt, love, remorse, heartache, sorrow, misery, regrets… They were raging through her mind, flowing over into each other until she couldn't discern them anymore. The full force of the emotional flood left her in pain, her heart aching for him and the fact that his counterpart was alive and well only caused her more anguish. "God Jack," she whispered, bringing up a hand to her trembling lips to stifle her cries.

Colonel O'Neill's surprise visit had only made it worse because of the way he looked at her, askance as if he was appraising her with those familiar brown eyes and treating her like she was some kind of alien whose allegiance was unclear. At first he'd sporadically made an appearance in her nightmares after she'd watched her Jack die, questioning her and mocking her answers and explanations with a grim face, but after his visit he'd shown up more often; sometimes he was the one pulling her away as Jack was dying, asking her why she hadn't stopped Ba'al, why she'd let her Jack die, other times he left her behind on the ice so she would know what it was like to die all alone. He would accuse her of saving herself and failing to stop the timeline from changing, for being responsible for this world while Ba'al was ruling the galaxy.

"No," Sam sniffled, trying to pull herself together. It wasn't her fault and she _would_ find a way to fix the timeline! She'd failed Jack once already, she wouldn't do it again. No, she wouldn't let these people, this military stop her from completing her mission. She'll do whatever it takes to right this wrong, to ensure the last ten years hadn't been for nothing and that Jack didn't die in vain… Unfolding herself, she wiped her eyes and cheeks dry and stood up. _There's work to be done_, she told herself. _Like always, Jack would count on you to fix it, Sam. _Quickly washing her hands and face in the sink, she took in the damage in the mirror; her eyes were a bit reddish but overall she looked okay. Besides, it wasn't like she had anywhere to be.

Taking a deep breath, Sam collected her emotions and tried to focus. She reached down to grab the olive green cap from where she'd discarded it on the floor earlier. Green wasn't really her color but it had reminded her of Jack's old cap from his SG-1 days and she hadn't been able to resist buying it online. Stuffing it in her back pocket, she opened the door to the bedroom and looked at all the boxes waiting for her. She still had an hour or two before dinner so she decided to at least move the ones with clothing into the walk-in closet and then she'd take a look in the kitchen.

So far she hadn't gone out for groceries yet as she hadn't been very hungry and had been able to live on what was in the house, but she feared it would be time soon. Shopping had never been one of her favorite pastimes but now she was downright apprehensive about it because she had no idea what to expect, especially in such a small town. She'd already checked online but unsurprisingly they didn't deliver groceries here and the bigger stores were all too far away since she didn't have a car yet.

Nearly an hour later her closet looked a bit more filled now that she'd unpacked most of the clothes, although she hadn't tried everything out yet. She knew she should because she'd lost weight these past few weeks, which meant there was a good chance some of it wouldn't fit properly, but she had a few weeks time to return them in that case so it could wait. So far she'd managed with the few articles from the bag SA Wood had given her but she'd be very happy if her new lingerie would finally arrive because the few pairs of standard issued military underwear were running out and she didn't have a washer yet. Plus she preferred her own style when she wasn't off-world and wearing BDUs. Of course she could revert back to hand washing her clothes, which she'd been sometimes forced to do on the longer missions, but the appliance was supposed to be here by the end of the week.

Sam figured she might as well check on the statuses of the various online orders she'd placed now that she was done with the clothes and made her way back to the kitchen, where she'd left the laptop. Still not trusting the NID and their penchant for bugging houses, she took the portable computer with her outside under the pretext of enjoying the last rays of sunshine in the back of the garden. The bright light on the screen made it a bit more difficult to see, but she didn't care and plopped down on the lounge chair she'd found in the garage's storage room a few days earlier.

She smiled to herself as she accessed the internet, remembering how she had dug into the system the first time. It had taken her only minutes to find the software they'd installed to keep tabs on her and she'd easily disabled some of it and rewritten other programs so she could decide what they could and couldn't see of her online activities. Now it would only send out harmless stuff, like the online orders she'd placed and she'd also made sure to rig the backdoor they'd surely try to use to access her laptop remotely. She'd always been skilled with computers and computer engineering and programming had come easily to her, but with the added knowledge and experience of everything she'd learned during her time at the SGC, Area 51 and Atlantis this had been a piece of cake.

The coding itself had also looked familiar at first glance and it hadn't taken her long to realize why – Felger. Apparently in this timeline he was also working for the Air Force – she'd googled him – and considering Colonel O'Neill had tried to assure her this was the best of the best, she could only hope this timeline's Felger wasn't as impulsive, clumsy and… well, incompetent as the man she'd worked with in the past for the sake of this timeline.

* * *

><p><strong>Briefing Room<br>McChord AFB  
>Lakewood, Washington<strong>

Earlier this afternoon Jack had been called to his CO's office, which was never a good thing in his experience and he'd been informed there was going to be a new briefing with the NID about the astronaut, so here he was. Under normal circumstances he might have been a bit irked about such short notice but not today, because he'd been buried in paperwork from the moment he set foot out of his base quarters a little after dawn. Then again, normal circumstances would have him give Special Forces training in some random part of the world instead of babysitting dead astronauts.

It was true he'd once been involved in said astronaut's life – or maybe death was more appropriate – after the _Intrepid_ disaster. He'd been leading the search and rescue, even though he had little hope of rescuing anyone after what had happened to the shuttle. With the speed and resulting force of more than two-hundred G's as it hit the Atlantic the entire structure of the space shuttle was crushed and everything inside would have been destroyed. During that assignment he'd been briefed about the crash, about what to expect and had been handed a file about the woman, which was mostly about her physical characteristics since that was essential; the other details about her career, that specific mission and how she'd handled herself was of less importance to him at that time.

So, one of the first things he'd done after visiting the dead woman's counterpart and giving her the fitting name of Alice Liddell four days ago was researching the astronaut's past and personality, hoping it might give him a better read on his new charge. One of the few benefits of the early demise of an international hero was a crap load of documentation of about every little thing she'd ever said or done. His first stop had been official reports, press statements and what had once been her 'personal' website. He'd gone through all that pretty quickly and two days ago he'd been pulling official and unofficial biographies from several libraries and had even been forced to order a couple from a local bookstore. He'd been promised the informational film for schoolchildren she'd made to promote NASA and its Shuttle Program a few years before becoming _Intrepid's _mission commander and the documentary_ Accomplishments of Mission Commander Samantha Carter: A True Hero_ as bonus material for his patience. Oh yeah, he couldn't wait to sink his teeth in those DVDs…

Jack snapped out of his musings when he heard the door to the briefing room open and quickly stood when his commanding officer entered. It was about time, he'd been waiting here for almost ten minutes! "Sir."

"At ease, Colonel O'Neill," General Hammond waved him down. "I see Colonel Maybourne hasn't graced us with his presence yet?"

"No, Sir," he replied as he sat back in his chair. Casting a glance at his doodles, he quickly grabbed his notepad and held it on his lap out of his CO's line of sight. "I'm guessing Maybourne and General Kennedy will get here any minute now… any minute, Sir."

Hammond looked a bit confused and shook his head. "No, General Kennedy had other business to attend to; we're just waiting for Colonel Maybourne."

"That's… odd," he shrugged. It was just like that arrogant bastard to keep them waiting; granted, if the roles had been reversed he wouldn't be hurrying for a meeting with the slimeball either but even Jack knew it wasn't wise to keep a three-star general waiting.

The Texan muttered something under his breath before he turned around and went over to the phone on the wall, presumably to call the switchboard or Maybourne's quarters but just as he identified himself the door opened and a calm Harry Maybourne walked in. "It's about damn time, Colonel."

"I apologize, General Hammond," the rat bastard replied with a smug smile that didn't look apologetic in the slightest. "I was on my way over here when one of my men stopped me to hand over a status report, which as we all know is exactly why we're here."

Hammond nodded with a slight scowl and went back to his chair. "Take a seat and let's get started; I'm on a tight schedule here, gentlemen."

Well, at least now Jack also knew what the reason for this little gathering was. He waited impatiently as Maybourne made a show of unpacking his case and organizing the folders on the tabletop and started fiddling with his pen. "Quite the trees you've got there, Harry."

"No need to worry, Jack; last I heard there were still plenty in Minnesota," he chuckled softly.

"Today please, Colonel Maybourne," Hammond urged, before Jack could make a snappy retort.

"Of course, Sir."

Jack leaned forward to grab the folders the colonel pushed his way and handed one over to his CO, before opening his own. "Surveillance reports?"

"General Kennedy gave me a brief update yesterday before he left to oversee the NID operation regarding Daniel Jackson's surveillance," Hammond informed them. "Please give Colonel O'Neill and myself the highlights."

Maybourne nodded and gestured towards the computer in the corner. "If I may, Sir?" When the General nodded he went over to the table and hooked up a flash drive. He typed away on the computer and a moment later there was a picture of the Liddell residence on the large screen on the wall. "This is where we relocated Samantha Carter; it's about twenty miles from the base in Rainier, a small town with a population of about 1600. As you are both aware the NID and OSI purposely looked for something near a military base to keep a close eye on her because it makes it possible to quickly retrieve her in case she's recognized and take her to a safe place. It's also the best way to control who she comes in contact with when she needs medical care for example. The search for suitable living arrangements was complicated by the Mission Commander's past because we couldn't risk her running into 'familiar' people. Unfortunately MC Carter was in the public eye and even now, four years after the crash people still talk about her and after all the publicity and her hero status her face is easily recognizable."

"Yeah, we know all that already," Jack muttered impatiently, gesturing for him to move on.

Hammond seemed to agree after casting a glance at his watch. "Quite frankly, Colonel, we're not interested in the how or why; the President clearly left the living arrangements and surveillance up to the NID and the OSI. We're just here to make sure Ms Carter doesn't do anything foolish, so if you could please move on to the relevant information."

"Of course, Sir." Maybourne appeared a bit miffed, which suited Jack just fine. "After receiving the paperwork and laptop from Jack, Carter went through her finances and her new identity, presumably to make Alice Liddell's history her own. That day she mostly investigated her new life and house, by evening she seemed to have settled in quite nicely. In the past few days she's had about a dozen people over the floor but they were all legit deliverymen; the surveillance team has verified their identities. We tracked Carter's online activities and it seems she's settling in for the long haul and has ordered furniture, clothing, appliances-"

"I think we get the picture," Jack interrupted him. The folder they'd been given included print outs of the orders the astronaut had made and he really didn't need Maybourne to read them aloud for him. "No incidents so far?"

"No, she's been diligent in keeping her distance from those she's come into contact with and has taken to wearing a cap when someone's around."

Hammond looked at the screen, which was now showing several pictures of the woman; one from the front of the house as she opened the door to let someone in and the others from the cameras inside. "And in public?"

Maybourne shook his head and picked up some of the papers he'd carried with him. "She hasn't left the house yet according to the latest status report, although I'm pretty sure she's going to need groceries soon."

"Doesn't look like she's been eating much," Jack muttered as he went through the reports. Some were transcripts – not that there was much talking – but others described her day-to-day activities observed from the cameras in the living room, kitchen and dining room, including when and what she was eating. "I'm surprised she managed so long with the few things I put in the fridge…"

"Her handlers had also put some canned goods in the cabinets," Maybourne said. "However, there is one small problem; with all the people, furniture, boxes and other things moving around some of surveillance equipment has been moved or stopped working altogether."

"Ah, I knew there was reason for this meeting," Jack replied in an annoyed tone. "Can't get one of your cronies to fix it under the pretext of working for the gas company, or something?"

Hammond held up his hand to forestall another argument and cleared his throat. "General Kennedy and I thought you would be the best choice; after all, it's been a few days since you last checked in with Ms Carter. Not to mention she'd probably see right through such a scheme."

"That's right, Jack; Carter already checked out the electrical wiring too and according to the papers you've given her the house is in good condition," Maybourne smiled smugly, probably pleased to have gotten his way. "Besides, sending anyone to check something like that could arouse suspicion."

"Fine, I'll check up on her," Jack relented, rolling his eyes. "Which equipment is malfunctioning?"

Maybourne leafed through his documents until he found the right one. "As you know there are cameras in the living room, dining room, kitchen, garage, entry and the hall way. The bedrooms, utility and storage rooms only have audio bugs. We lost visual in the living room this morning after they carried some furniture into the house and there's static interference in the master bedroom, so you'll need to check those two rooms."

"I was there last Monday when they installed the surveillance equipment," he nodded, recalling where the bugs had been placed. "I'll check in with the team on location before I move in."

"Colonel Simmons left for Rainier this morning after the problem was reported and he'll be able to tell you more when you get there," Maybourne concluded.

"Very well, if that was all… dismissed," Hammond concluded, immediately getting up from his seat seemingly in a hurry.

* * *

><p><strong>Liddell Residence<br>Rainier, Washington**

After checking the surveillance equipment to make sure the astronaut was still in her house, Jack had left the van and Simmons' presence to make his way to her house. He'd parked his borrowed car between the van and the house earlier to keep his presence from the house's occupant and had just passed it when a delivery truck stopped in front of the house. He'd waited until the driver got out, dropped off a package and drove off again before he walked up the driveway and up the steps to the porch to ring the bell. Jack heard some noise and what sounded like a curse before the door swung open.

"Colonel O'Neill! What are you doing here?" Her eyes looked at him accusingly.

Jack frowned a bit at her less than welcoming greeting. He quickly looked her up and down and tried to give her a nice smile. "Well, hello to you too! Can I come in?"

"Actually," she glanced over her shoulder before turning back to him, still evading his gaze and looking somewhere over his shoulder. "I'm in the middle of something."

"Oh?" His brows raised and he shamelessly tried to look behind her.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I was about to start on dinner, if you must know."

"Ah, so… how's that working out for you?"

"Excuse me?"

Jack shrugged and gestured at the door. "I heard you cursing when I came up."

"Oh… I was startled by the bell," she admitted with a blush.

"Really?" He smirked openly, amused that she'd be startled by something so mundane when she apparently traipsed around the galaxy fighting evil aliens in her own timeline. "I've heard they can be quite vicious indeed…"

"Funny, Colonel."

His smirk widened when she rolled her eyes and he held up the bag of takeout he'd brought with him. He wasn't sure if it was still warm after stopping to talk to Simmons, but he knew she had a microwave. "I brought food so there's no need for cooking."

"That's okay," she said dismissively. "What are you really here for? And where's your car?"

Jack inwardly cursed when she looked past him at her empty driveway and the free parking spots in the street. "I parked over there," he gestured vaguely.

"You could have just parked on the driveway or on the street here," she replied with a hint of suspicion.

"The delivery truck was in the way." Silently congratulating himself on his valid excuse he held out the bag again. "So, food? You can show me what you've done with the place while we reheat it."

The woman sighed, seemingly hesitant to let him in but after a minute or so she nodded reluctantly and took the bag. "Fine," she relented and stepped aside to let him in.

He took in her bare feet as he entered the living room and walked past her. There were a couple of boxes around the room but one smaller package, probably the one that had just been delivered, was lying on its side a few feet from the door. "What's this?" He asked, reaching down to pick it up. It was addressed to 'A. Liddell' and looked like she'd just thrown it there. Glancing back at her as she moved further into the room, he frowned. "Is this the box that was just delivered?" When she nodded and moved to the kitchen he hazarded a guess. "And when I rang the doorbell you startled and dropped it?"

"On my foot," she grumbled. "I'll take that."

"Why, what's in it?" Jack asked as she held out her hand. "Something you don't want me to see?"

She sighed and apparently decided to ignore him in favor of reheating the food. "Fine; it's my new lingerie. Open it if you don't believe me," she called over her shoulder from the kitchen.

"Oh, no, that's okay," he said quickly and placed it on top of another, larger box. A lingerie store had been on the list of her online orders Maybourne had shown him but he so wasn't going there. "So… I see you've been making some changes around here." She was still in the kitchen as he looked around the living room, trying to make conversation. "Want to give me the grand tour?"

"There's not much to see," she replied noncommittally as she appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"Oh come on," Jack cajoled her. "Please, Sam?" So far he'd been avoiding calling her anything but he was hoping using her name might warm her up a bit, instead she seemed to flinch slightly. "Ah, how about a little paint, a couple of plants by the windows and some decorations by the fireplace? I bet it'd be just like home." She just stared at him when he looked back at her, and her face had paled a bit at his words. "What, is it something I said?"

That seemed to bring her back to reality and she shook her head, clearing her throat. "Ah, no… The walls are fine, plants always seem to die anyway and it's not like I have any family pictures or something to put near the fireplace."

He winced at her harsh words and turned around, pretending to be really looking at the walls. "It seems a bit cold and distant," he remarked. "Very clinical all that white, especially if your furniture is black and white too," he gestured at the new couch and coffee table.

"Maybe that's just me," she replied with a shrug, her blue eyes almost icy.

"Nah, I don't believe that," Jack smiled at her, trying to cheer her up. It wasn't working though. "Have you tried talking to them? I heard it can help."

"Excuse me?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Talking to your plants."

"No." Apparently that was all she had to say on the matter as she went back into the kitchen, presumably to check on the food.

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair, wondering how on Earth he was going to befriend her if she was so… stony. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience with this either; most of his friends had been made along the way without much effort, often by working together or sharing the same hobbies. Some of Sara's friends and family had required a bit of effort and time, but in the end that had also gone naturally. He never really went out of his way to try and become friends with someone he didn't even know, especially not women – he doubted his wife of nearly thirty years would appreciate that.

He groaned and padded along the living room as he heard the clanging of plates and other noises coming from the kitchen; this would be the perfect time to check on the bugs, he decided. Pricking up his ears for any movements from his charge, Jack went over to the corner where he knew the defective bug was and realized it was nowhere to be found! She must have thrown out the clock that had been hanging there on his previous visit. _Crap!_ That meant there was a pretty large blind spot in the living room. Colonel Simmons had given him an extra bug but he had no idea where to place it.

"Dinner is done; were you expecting to join me or were just dropping it off? Because you know where the door is…"

Only his years of experience prevented him from jumping at the sound of her voice behind him and, trying to calm his suddenly racing pulse, Jack turned around with a small grin. "I'd be _delighted_ to stay for dinner, Sam. Thank you," he smirked. Apparently this woman had been trained better than he – or the NID – had expected because he hadn't even heard her approach! That meant he had to be more careful from now on. Fingering the small bug in his pocket he made his way over to the dining room and decided to try again later.

"You can sit at the counter if you insist on staying."

"You really know how to make a guy feel welcome, don't you?"

Sam gave him a small, but eerily familiar grin as she sat down on the opposite side of the counter. "I learned from the best."

"I take it you like Chinese food?" Jack asked after a beat as he too took a seat. He'd read it was one of MC Carter's favorite takeout dishes so he figured she would probably like it too. Then again, unlike the mission commander this Samantha Carter apparently didn't talk to her plants. Or maybe she just didn't want to share that sort of information – or any really – with him.

"It'll do," she shrugged.

Unsure of how to get her to open up or make small talk, he followed her example and started munching on the food. She'd been distant and cold, almost hostile since opening the door and he wondered what had changed since his last visit. Back then she'd been a bit nicer and he'd been hopeful that he could befriend, win her over and maybe even simply convince her to forget about the alternate timeline and use her expertise to improve this world's level of technology. Perhaps now that she'd had more time to settle in she'd remembered everything she'd left behind? He'd thought giving her some time alone here after being locked up for over five weeks would do her some good but now it looked like it may have had the opposite effect. Or maybe, Jack thought, it was just because she was still tired after her ordeal. "So… how are you doing, Sam?"

She shot him a puzzled look, her fork freezing midair. "I'm fine," she said slowly. "Why?"

"Oh, just wondering how you're settling in," he replied between bites and shrugged. "You know, after everything you've gone through… you must have been exhausted."

"I'm fine," she reiterated. When he continued to stare at her, trying to gauge her reaction she made a vague gesture with her fork. "I've been through worse."

Jack's eyebrows shot up in surprise as she looked down at her plate to focus on pushing her food around. It wasn't so much her explanation that surprised him because he'd already been impressed with how well she'd handled herself while in custody, having experience with similar and worse situations, but her delivery; she didn't make it sound like a big reveal or some deep dark secret – like the classified stuff he'd be hard-pressed to talk about – but just a casual statement, as if they were talking about getting soaked in the rain. "I don't doubt that."

Something flashed in her eyes, maybe disbelief or suspicion – he couldn't tell – before it was replaced with indifference. "Is that why you're here?"

"Can't a guy just drop by to see how you're doing and maybe catch up over dinner?" He tried not to cringe at his own words, but it was hard not to; even he didn't believe what he'd just said. It sounded phony and if the situation had been less awkward, tense and uncomfortable it might have even sounded like a bad pick-up line.

"Maybe," Sam said as she stood and went over to the trashcan to throw out the food on her plate. "If we'd actually know each other," she added as she leaned down to put her plate in the dishwasher. "Are you done with that?"

Jack didn't even get the chance to reply before she snagged his plate away and threw out the food. It was obvious she was trying to get rid of him but he didn't want to leave like this; if he was going to befriend her then he had to try harder. Not to mention that he still had to plant the bug from his pocket and check the one in her bedroom. "Uh, no, I wasn't," he protested as she also discarded the leftovers.

"Too bad."

He didn't think she sounded apologetic or even sympathetic and took a deep breath. "Well, why don't you make it up to me by giving me the grand tour of this place?"

"Fine," she relented, albeit reluctantly. "So, this is the kitchen and that," she pointed over the bar to his side, "is the dining room."

"Waiting for new furniture?" He asked, getting up from the barstool.

She nodded and went into the dining room, beckoning him to follow. "This is the hall with guest rooms on either side and that's the second bathroom. Like I said, this place is way too big for me."

"A small town was probably the best solution the OSI could think of for you," Jack speculated, even though he was aware of the reasoning.

"They wanted to keep me close to a military base no doubt," Sam replied as she turned right to the living room. "Living room and front door."

"So, I'm guessing tour guide isn't going to be your next job, eh?" He teased as she moved right again, towards the other side of the house. When she didn't respond, he gestured at the boxes and few pieces of furniture. "Have you ordered more stuff?"

Sam shook her head and jerked her head towards the wall between the living room and kitchen. "No, but I want that wall out to get an open kitchen so I can't put too much stuff in front of it. This is the entry hall, which leads to the garage."

Jack nodded, looking to his left. "What about this room?" he opened the door and stuck his head in. More boxes and a desk. "It would make an excellent media or game room!"

"It's going to be my office," she replied curtly. "That's the utility room."

"You know, if you're going to tear out that wall in the kitchen you're going to need a pantry because I don't think those cupbo-"

"I'm going to build a pantry here," Sam interrupted him, pointing at the south wall between the door leading to the garage and the door to the entry. "At least then I'll have something to do with my time."

He was impressed with her remodeling plans and knocked on the wall she'd indicated. "What's behind this?"

"A storage room, which I'm going to convert to a gym."

He frowned for a moment, trying to recall what he'd read about the area. "You know, there are several gyms only a few miles from here."

"I prefer to do my exercises at home," she replied.

Her accompanying shrug was probably meant to show indifference and hide the shudder that went through her body, but Jack noticed and he figured she probably had some kind of bad experience that made her avoid gyms. "So, that's the master bedroom then?" He asked, trying to change the subject as he walked back to the door and opened it.

"Um, yes. It's nothing special," she called after him.

Jack ignored her and moved into the room, immediately spotting the new alarm clock that was probably interfering with the audio bug's transmission. He knew he was being rude but it was the only way to check out the interference, so he walked over to the closets peeking in both of them before entering the master bathroom. "Nice," he commented at the spacious room. She was on his heels, probably uncomfortable with his presence here – so did he – and when she stood next to him, he moved back into the bedroom and plopped down on the new bed. "Is this new too?"

"Yeah, it was delivered earlier today," she replied with a small scowl on her face, seemingly annoyed with him.

"You should take a load off, Sam. Try and relax a bit," he grinned at her. "You look a bit tense and pale. Or maybe it's your cap… you know, I think blue is more your color."

She narrowed her eyes at him and self-consciously took the cap off, her blonde locks tumbling down to frame her face. "Well, with all due respect, Colonel, I don't really care what you think of my choice of headgear," she snapped at him, before looking down almost longingly at the cap she was twisting in her hands.

Jack realized a moment too late that his teasing had touched a sore spot. It was just like him to put his foot in his mouth, he thought to himself. He considered apologizing but that wasn't something he did easily and it wasn't like he could have known his remark would hurt her. Before he could open his mouth to say something she disappeared into the en suite bathroom and he let out a sigh. Shaking himself, he quickly turned back to the alarm clock and moved it as far away as possible from the bug in the light on her nightstand, hoping that would suffice.

When he pricked up his ears he could hear the water from the bathroom sink and he quickly jumped up from his spot on the mattress. He'd just walked over to one of the larger boxes in the room, feigning interest in her new purchases when Sam came back. Even if some strands of her hair weren't wet he would have been able to tell she'd splashed some water in her face. Suddenly he thought she looked very tired, her features were drawn and he remembered how exhausted she had to be. Again he felt a bit guilty for showing up out of nowhere and disturbing her, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice. "Are you okay?"

"I told you I'm fine," she replied in exasperation. Walking over to the opposite side of the box she looked at him with cold eyes and put her cap down on top it. "It's getting late though and I'd rather be alone now."

"Okay, I guess," Jack mumbled, his gaze cast down to avoid her glare. His eyes fell upon the cap and suddenly he realized it had the same drab olive green color as BDUs. That was probably why she'd bought it, he thought to himself; nostalgia. When he'd come over a few days ago she had sounded rather pissed off at not being considered military anymore. With a sigh he straightened, giving her a small smile. Maybourne and Simmons would just have to wait for him to be able to replace the defective camera in the living room; he wasn't going to bother her any longer today.

He turned around as she basically shooed him out and rolled his eyes with his back to her. "I like what you've done with the place," he mumbled over his shoulder in her direction as they entered the living room. "And I think an open kitchen is a great idea," he added, gesturing towards the wall she wanted to tear out. She didn't respond and he couldn't blame her because even to him his attempts at making conversation sounded lame.

"Ow, damn it!" She yelped from behind him.

When he swiveled around to face her she was clutching her foot and leaning against a box. "Oy, are you okay? Is that the same foot as before…?"

She muttered under her breath, rubbing her injured foot and slowly nodded her head in reply. "Yeah, I'm fine. Should have been paying more attention to where I was walking."

"Sure?" Jack briefly wondered if she ever replied with anything other than 'I'm fine' when asked about her wellbeing, but quickly shook that thought. Now he felt even guiltier for disturbing her than before because he was pretty sure she'd either been too tired or too annoyed with him to watch where she was going. Or maybe both.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Sam straightened and glanced at the quickly forming bruise on her foot. "Considering Daniel lost his lower leg I really shouldn't be complaining…"

He didn't know how to respond to that and looked away. Her tone of voice was telling and he knew the pained look in her eyes he'd seen before averting his gaze didn't have anything to do with bumping into a box but everything to do with that archeologist of hers. "Eh, I, er…" Jack cleared his throat and tried again. Stuffing his hands in his pocket he shrugged and looked at her. "I heard he was settling in nicely and MacKenzie was going to help him get a prosthetic leg fitted."

Her head snapped up and her eyes shone with something he couldn't quite name – relief, perhaps? "How do you know that?"

"Oh you know," he winced inwardly, realizing he'd revealed more than he'd intended. "Through the grapevine at McChord. Anyway, I should get going. Have a good night, Sam and maybe we'll see each other again!" Jack quickly moved to the front door, escaping the accusation forming in her eyes. Crap, you would almost think he had no experience with undercover jobs! As he ran out into the cold night he told himself it was because of the wounded look on her face and because he could somewhat sympathize with her situation. He couldn't let it happen again though; she'd already proven that they'd underestimated her skills and he couldn't afford to let her get under his skin. Not when his son's life and this entire timeline was at risk!


	6. Day Seven of a New Life

**Day Seven  
>Surveillance Van<br>Rainier, Washington**

Colonel Jack O'Neill was bored out of his mind and fiddling with his coat's zipper as he sat waiting. Beside him were two technicians, with headphones at the monitoring equipment and Colonel Simmons was sitting on the other side of the van, near the side door and talking into his phone. Hammond had called him in this morning when he'd learned that the woman was checking for grocery stores online and they suspected she was finally going to venture outside for the first time now that she was running low on supplies. Jack had received his orders to get his six to the surveillance van ASAP and then wait until she left the house. After his failed attempt at replacing the defective bug in her living room two days ago they'd been waiting for another opportunity and it seemed like they'd finally gotten one.

Samantha Carter had gone out for the first time a few minutes ago and one of Simmons' men was trailing her and keeping the man apprised of her movements over the phone. Jack was waiting to get the go ahead so he could slip inside her place, check the surveillance equipment and replace defective bugs; she had been busy moving furniture and other stuff around since his last visit and now the miniscule electronic devices weren't working optimally anymore. The blind spot in the living room was also still there because he had been unable to replace the tiny camera and after he'd left her house he'd been told moving her alarm clock in the bedroom hadn't helped with the static interference either.

All in all that meant him dropping by the other day had been a bust. Not only hadn't he solved the problem he'd been sent out to fix, but he feared he'd only made matters worse with her… Sam. He'd sympathized with her and felt guilty about trying to weasel his way into her life when it was pretty clear she just wanted him to leave her alone. It probably wasn't a good sign that he had to keep reminding himself that she wanted to alter the timeline, which would mean his son would die! But at the same time he had to admit she'd been pretty cooperative so far, with the exception of refusing to give more information about the technological advances she'd seen during her travels through space. He couldn't really blame her for that either; if the stories about all these powerful aliens and their toys were true, it would change the balance of power on this planet in heavy favor of the United States if she were to 'help' them and he couldn't help but think of how well that had gone in the past...

Maybe luck was on his side for once and she would turn out to be completely harmless. He just had to make sure he kept his guard up because if she _was_ planning something… well, let's just say he couldn't afford to make a mistake. The only problem was that his gut instinct was telling him she was up to something and it was hardly ever wrong. Not to mention that she was basically the same person as the dead astronaut, right? After all, MacKenzie had said they were one and the same and the only difference seemed to be that one joined the Stargate Program and the other NASA. Jack thought it made sense in a weird way, seeing how similar her archeologist pal was to this world's Daniel Jackson… Either way, he'd never really believed the late MC Carter's wholesome act even though she was a national hero and had done the right thing when _Intrepid_ was about to crash. He hadn't known her personally but it was difficult to escape her constant presence in the media and despite her easy smile, he'd always felt she was somewhat insincere. There'd been a clear intelligence in her eyes and they often shone brightly when she was on TV for her campaigns or at a fundraiser for the Shuttle Program – he got the impression she was a cunning woman so maybe that applied to her counterpart as well.

Then again, he'd already noticed a few differences between the mission commander and Sam – it was why he'd started thinking of his charge as Sam instead of the dead astronaut. Sam's eyes were hard and cold most of the time and she often wore a mask of indifference, which he thought was rather familiar. But he thought it was understandable after the weeks she'd had and every now and then there seemed to be a small crack in her armor, and he'd see a glimpse of something else in her eyes, like the wounded look from the other day when he'd clearly overstayed his welcome… Oh Christ, he'd known this woman was going to be trouble the moment he'd recognized her on the ice and now he was stuck with this goddamn assignment he couldn't refuse for the sake of his son!

"Crap," he muttered as he scrubbed a hand over his face. How the hell was he going to get through this assignment intact? There was so much at stake and he didn't have the first clue where to start! He hated going into a situation without the necessary intel but he hardly knew anything about Sam Carter. Yeah, he'd read the transcripts and gone over the videos of her 'interviews' and the time she'd spent in her holding cell, but that hardly told him anything about her personality. He'd even gone over the stuff from the other two to see if he could learn something about her through them, but it hadn't really paid off; most of the items that had been covered had to do with the Stargate, physics, technology, aliens and their cultures and missions. It hadn't seemed necessary to ask about their personal lives and frankly, if they had Jack probably would've thought they were wasting their time! Now it was clear though that he was rather unprepared; he'd been thrown in at the deep end to fend for himself. So, with the lack of information he'd turned to the one person whose life had been covered in great detail; Mission Commander Samantha Carter. He knew he was grasping at straws but it wasn't like he had anything better to do while he was waiting to visit Sam again, after all he had to stay at the base and couldn't just fly back to Colorado on a day off.

"Colonel O'Neill!"

Startled from his thoughts, Jack looked up at an annoyed Colonel Simmons. "Yeah?"

"Do you remember what to do?"

He rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. "This isn't my first picnic, Simmons… You're sure that this wasn't done on purpose?"

"Ah, no, Sir," one of the techs stammered after Simmons gestured for him to answer. "She hasn't been investigating or anything; she's completely unaware the house is bugged and the phone's tapped."

"Time for you to get going; it looks like Carter will be out shopping for a while so for now you're safe to proceed," the Colonel added after glancing at his watch.

Jack reluctantly took the equipment the scowling man handed him and stuffed them in his jeans pockets. "Oh joy," he muttered, getting up from his seat. With a last glance at the monitor to confirm the house's occupant really was gone, he opened the van door and got out.

The light outside was a bit bright and he was tempted to reach in his jacket for his aviator sunglasses, but it wasn't that far to Sam's house. With long strides it took him less than a minute to reach the porch and then he was rooting around in his coat pocket for the key to open the door. He couldn't afford to try and pick the lock, not with the nosy neighbors from across the street and he definitely didn't want to alert Sam by forcing the lock. Still, he wasn't comfortable with having a key to her house and he'd been reluctant to add it to his regular key ring, so now it was loose in his pocket and… _Ah!_ His fingers closed around the small key and he quickly retrieved it. The lock opened smoothly and then he was inside her house. Luckily she didn't have an alarm, which would probably keep a log of activation and deactivation times, so he quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

It was clear Sam had been doing some more redecorating and he was surprised to see the wall separating the kitchen from the living door was already torn down. The woman hadn't been kidding about having too much time on her hands… Jack quickly scanned the living room, memorizing every detail in case he had to move anything and got to work. It didn't take him long to place the new camera to cover the huge blind spot and then he quickly checked the other bugs in the room. He was forced to move one of the new chairs and a lamp, but he didn't think Sam had done that on purpose, especially not if the techs hadn't seen her investigate. However, he thought it was unlikely she didn't suspect the house was bugged; she was smart and the OSI had told her they'd keep a close eye on her, after all. Besides, the only way she'd be able to find the surveillance equipment was by using a device to track the frequencies – but she was too smart to buy one because it could easily be traced back to her and would be in violation of her agreement – or to tear up the house.

Jack took a few steps back to see if he'd put everything back in place before moving to the other rooms. He made quick work of those too and eventually he found himself in her master bedroom again. Unlike two days ago when the bed and mattress had just been delivered, the bed was now neatly made and he couldn't help but notice the military precision. There were a few more items in her bedroom too, a new dresser – though god knew what she needed it for with two walk-in closets – against the far wall and a couple of shelves were hanging from another wall. No more boxes taking up space, but the place still looked a bit empty. He shrugged to himself, wondering why he cared and went back to the bug on her nightstand.

After a few minutes he'd fixed the problem as far as he could tell, but just to be sure he got out his cell phone – noticing he'd been in the house for almost an hour – and called Simmons. "O'Neill," he said when the other colonel answered. "Can you check if everything's working now?"

_"There is still a blind spot in the living room, but it's not significant enough to warrant action."_

"Yeah well, if your boys had done a good job to begin with…" Jack couldn't help but say. "Anyway, how are the other rooms?"

There was a muted silence but he could still hear Simmons barking orders at the techs and after a few minutes the man finally replied. "_Everything is in working order, Colonel O'Neill."_

"Great," he grinned, happy to be able to leave. "Then I'll just be on my way out."

He heard a curse and some mutterings before Simmons spoke again. _"Carter just turned around the block and is heading your way."_

"Oh crap," Jack groaned. He rubbed a hand over his eyes as he tried to figure out what to do next. She'd be here any minute now; there was no way he'd be able to make it back to his car! "O'Neill out," he muttered and hung up the phone, even though he heard Simmons muttering something about her losing her tail. He probably should have expected her to do so but he'd foolishly believed those NID goons would at least be capable of following a woman without losing sight of her in a town this small! Now what?

* * *

><p><strong>Liddell Residence<br>Rainier, Washington**

Sam let out a deep sigh of relief when she finally saw her driveway and sped up a few steps. She wouldn't admit it to anyone if asked, but she was getting tired and her arms felt cramped from all the bags she was carrying; it was clear she wasn't back to her full strength yet, which wasn't surprising seeing how she hadn't done anything but sit, lie and sleep for over five weeks. When she reached the driveway she was forced to stop to try and shift the grocery bags because they were really starting to cut off circulation in her fingers. With a small groan she managed to slip the handles to her wrists to give her painful fingers a break and flex them to help the blood to flow. Moving the groceries around had caused the aroma of the cookies she'd bought at Main Street to fill her nostrils, making her stomach grumble in anticipation and she was quickly reminded that she had to get inside so she could finally eat something.

As she walked up the driveway she glared at the large lawn in front of her house; she wasn't a lawn-mowing person and now she had lots of grass at the front and back of her new place! Even though she'd always tried to take good care of her plants in the past they often died – despite talking to them – and now she couldn't help but wonder how long it would take for her garden to wilt. It wasn't like she had a lot of experience gardening; when she was a kid they'd been moving around too much for her mother to keep up a nice garden because of her Dad's job, then her Mom had died and there hadn't been any houses with nice gardens anymore… The first time she'd gotten her own garden was when she'd bought her house in Colorado Springs but she'd been too busy at the SGC to tend to it and now Sam wondered if she was supposed to water the lawn and when she was supposed to mow it. She also didn't like the idea of having to be out in the front garden, working hard and having people watch her because, for one, she didn't like to be the center of attention, but more importantly, she was afraid someone might recognize her as the mission commander.

Why couldn't the OSI have gotten her a nice, cozy apartment in a big city instead of this huge house in a small town? A fleeting thought of the guys and their new homes came to mind. Where could they be? Cam could live wherever the hell he wanted as long as it wasn't near her or Daniel, she mused. After all, no one in this timeline could recognize him since he didn't exist! Her problem was being a dead ringer for a dead astronaut, who was considered a national hero. So they had to hide her away, hoping that a small town near a military base would be good enough. Maybe Cam could live somewhere in Kansas? He'd probably love that… it would be much more difficult for Daniel though, not only was his counterpart a discredited archeologist but he was also still alive! Sam smiled to herself, hoping the OSI hadn't gotten Daniel similar living arrangements as her because he'd never stop sneezing with all this plant life around!

A soft chuckle nearly escaped her lips at the image when she quickly sobered; poor Daniel had lost his leg! God, and here she was thinking how much trouble it would be to have to mow the lawn! At least he was getting a prosthetic so hopefully he'd be able to move around freely after a few months, but it still had to be awful to not only have everything you are taken away from you but to also lose a limb. His independence, his mobility… she was briefly reminded of the time she'd been working on Merlin's phase-shift technology and had accidentally been drawn into an alternate reality, where Cam's counterpart had been unable to walk after his F302 crash and was confined to a wheelchair. The man had been embittered and probably never left his apartment; she could only hope Daniel wouldn't meet the same fate before she could find a way to restore the timeline and contact him!

Sam shook herself and tried to focus on how she was going to fix what Ba'al had done, but as she passed the garage on her way to the porch she froze. What the hell was Colonel O'Neill doing here – again! – sitting on her steps? Why couldn't the man just leave her alone? Couldn't he understand how hard it was to see him sitting there, grinning at her while she was still grieving the loss of her Jack? She schooled her features carefully, once again glad with her new sunglasses and gave him an appraising look. As the silence continued he looked a bit more uncomfortable, his grin turning into a shy little smile almost as if he was embarrassed to be caught sitting here, waiting for her… He was insecure, she realized. Putting up a brave front, like any Jack O'Neill, yes, but definitely unsure of his actions and what kind of welcome he would receive.

That realization calmed her racing heart; he didn't know about her… relationship with her Jack. She hadn't told anyone, not seeing how it was relevant and afraid to give them any ammunition against her but she couldn't have been sure about what the guys had mentioned in their interrogations. Daniel wouldn't have said anything, if not to protect her then because he probably thought it would be obvious since, like he'd been telling them since the first year of the Program, she and Jack always were involved no matter what reality they found themselves in. He hadn't been there on the ice with her and Cameron though, when Colonel O'Neill had laconically greeted her and seeing how drugged up Daniel had been in the infirmary, he probably didn't recall the hostility coming from the military man either.

She couldn't be sure of what Cam had told them though… he was aware of her and Jack, obviously, but they weren't that close and he'd never been around to hear all the rumors about their relationships and how their counterparts always seemed to be involved in the early years of the SGC. But as a soldier, he probably wouldn't have thought it was relevant. Not unless someone had specifically asked him and right now all she had to go on was O'Neill's behavior, which told her he was unaware… for the time being, because she had no idea how long she could fool him if he was anything like the Jack she knew. But at least she had the upper hand, because her Jack had also worked in special operations like his counterpart and she'd learned a lot from him, while her counterpart had been a civilian scientist who'd joined NASA. So even if this O'Neill had known her counterpart she doubted he could read her as well as she could read him.

"Hey… need a hand with that?" O'Neill asked, still carrying that shy smile as he stood up.

She glared at him when he came closer and tugged on a few of the bags, knowing he'd be able to see it at this distance, despite her glasses. "What are you doing here, Colonel?" She asked brusquely, sidestepping him and stomping up the steps.

"Here, let me help you with that," he said from behind her, instead of answering her question. He tugged at the bags and the handles rubbed over her sore wrist, so she gave in and he triumphantly took the bags from her left hand.

Sam juggled the bags on her other wrist while she reached into her pocket for her house key, but suddenly those were taken from her too. She shot him an annoyed look, before unlocking the door. Out of habit she checked the lock for damages – she'd become more cautious since her abduction seven years ago – and finding none, she pushed open the door and walked inside. Her eyes scanned the living room before deciding everything was normal and proceeding to the kitchen. She could hear O'Neill mutter behind her as he struggled to close the door while balancing all the bags but she let him fend for himself; he'd wanted to be her knight in shining armor so he could deal with it.

"You know, someone might think you're trying to hide something with that cap _and_ the sunglasses," he commented as he joined her in the kitchen.

"It's too sunny not to wear sunglasses," she mumbled as she them both off and placed them on the counter.

His eyes fell on the pair of sunglasses and he smirked. "Aviator style?"

"They aren't my usual Ray Bans but they'll do," Sam shrugged. Now that she had a living allowance she had to be much more careful with how she was spending her money and that meant cheaper sunglasses in this case. She reached for the bags to start unpacking her groceries and looked at him. "Why are you here?"

"Can't I just drop by to lend a helping hand?" He countered with a frown, as if she was being unreasonable and started to unpack some bags too.

Stopping, she turned to him. "How would you have known I needed a helping hand?"

"Well," O'Neill shrugged and gestured at the torn-down wall, "you mentioned redecorating and I thought maybe you could use some help with those walls. Obviously I was mistaken; you're quite capable yourself."

Sam felt a rush of warmth at the overt compliment of her skills in his oh so familiar voice, but quickly stamped it down. "Don't you have work to do?"

"I needed a break from all the paperwork," he replied with a grin. Grabbing a second bag he started to unload its content. "Have you started on the pantry yet?"

Obviously he'd noticed that she now only had cupboards to put her things away, but she still didn't understand why he wanted to help. "What happened to your training exercise in the Arctic?" She asked in a skeptical tone, recalling why he'd been there in the first place. Something about training Special Forces when Cam's distress call had been picked up… she was a bit blurry on the details because of the mild hypothermia, shock of watching Jack die and finding herself on the ice running into his counterpart.

"It's been put on ice," O'Neill quipped dryly. "What's this?" He asked, holding up a cheap radio with headset from the bag.

"Oh, for in the bathroom," Sam muttered, snatching it out of his hands. Keeping an eye on him as she shelved some of the canned goods she'd bought, she noticed him pulling out her shampoo, conditioner and body lotion. "Just give me that bag," she said, reaching for it.

* * *

><p>Jack barely had time to respond before she pulled the bag away. Still holding a can of shaving foam and a large bottle of body wash, he awkwardly handed it over to her, assuming she didn't want him pawing through her more… intimate products. "Here you go."<p>

"It was on sale," she replied with a shrug when he eyed the large bottle's twin still in the bag.

"Okay…" He mumbled with his hands already on the last plastic bag and pulling out stuff for in the fridge. "So, _is_ there anything I can help you with?"

Sam just shot him a skeptical look before muttering something under her breath as she walked towards the master bedroom with her refilled bag. Assuming she was going to put the items in her bathroom, he took a deep breath and leaned his head against the fridge. It had been _so_ close! He'd only barely managed to lock the door behind him before she'd stood in front of the driveway. Luckily for him she'd been too distracted with shifting the groceries in her arms and staring at the lawn to notice him quickly sitting down on the porch steps.

His pulse had been racing when she opened the door and he'd walked in behind her, uninvited, hoping he hadn't missed any evidence that he'd been inside. He'd almost forgotten to comment on the missing wall when they were in the kitchen, until he reminded himself that he wasn't supposed to know about it already being gone. So he'd made sure to point it out without being too obvious about it. The offer to help her out had been blurted out as he tried to think of an excuse for his presence, but when he thought about it it actually made sense; he could spend some time with her to get to know her better and get her to trust him.

When he heard a door slam, he quickly placed all the perishables in the fridge and focused on the last items. "Oooh, Frootees!" Jack exclaimed, grabbing the box of colorful cereal. At least the woman had taste! It was his favorite breakfast, even though it wasn't very nutritious or healthy and Sara was always complaining about him eating stuff made for kids. He wasn't sure if that was actually because of his choice of food or because of the sugar high he got from them according to her, but he didn't really care. It was one of his few vices and even though she'd roll her eyes at him whenever he ate it, she still made sure to buy it when he was home.

"I'll take that," Sam snapped at him, roughly pulling the box out of his hands.

"Gee, take it easy!"

After placing her precious box of cereal in one of the cupboards she glared at him. "Why don't you just stop interfering and leave me alone?"

Ah, crap. Now she made him feel bad again. He hadn't meant to upset her and besides, it was just a box of Frootees for crying out loud! "I'm just trying to help out," he shrugged, looking at the floor to evade her icy blue eyes. "I mean, your friends aren't here and you don't really know anyone yet so I just thought…"

"Actually, I've already been introduced to half the town while grocery shopping. By tomorrow everyone will probably know that the new owner of this house is Alice Liddell and I can look forward to many housewarming presents," she said dryly, obviously not looking forward to it.

"If you don't want my help with the pantry, then how about the kitchen?" Right now it only had a bar but with the wall and old pantry gone, she could easily fit an island in it. When she didn't say anything Jack risked a glance at her and found her looking back at him, with a hint of suspicion. At least she didn't seem angry anymore. Trying again he made a vague hand gesture to encompass her redecorating. "You know, if you don't want my help with any of this and don't want me around, I could at least inquire about your new car. Might make shopping a bit easier." It hadn't escaped him how worn out she looked from just buying groceries. He had no doubt she was very fit but she'd been found on the Arctic Ice, mildly hypothermic and had then spent another five weeks in a holding cell being interrogated!

"I thought Special Agents Wood and Lucas were my handlers," Sam finally spoke.

Oh Christ, he'd probably given it away when mentioning the car and just dropping by here – again. Silently cursing Hammond and the others for not having foreseen this, Jack nodded slowly. "Yeah… yeah, that's true. But they'll only check in with you every once in a while and you can call them if someone has found out the truth about you-"

"The truth?" She snorted, an amused smile on her lips.

He shrugged in response, feeling a bit sheepish; of course no one would find out the real _truth_, but they could easily think it was some weird government cover-up with the mission commander. There were always enough crazy people with conspiracy theories. "Anyway, I'll be around a bit more just to see how you're settling in, dealing with your new identity and stuff like that."

"Threat assessment," she mused aloud. "I guess I should have known."

"No," Jack shook his head. Seeing her skeptical look he innocently raised his brows and decided to throw in a bit of truthfulness. "Those were done long before you left base, Sam."

He could almost see it click in her mind as she nodded slowly – she probably knew as well as he did she would have never been released without one. "Yet they're still concerned I'm a danger, so they assigned you, a familiar face so… what, in a moment of feminine weakness I'll spill my plans for galactic domination because you're supposed to remind me of my former CO?"

Surprised by her sarcastic tone and her slightly hostile posture – not to mention her accuracy – he shrugged with a roguish smile. "Well, when you put it like _that_ it sounds like a bad plan."

"I see," was her only response before she turned her back to him. "What's plan B; be my escort and bodyguard in the hopes I'll be so grateful with your company that I'll let you in on my evil plans? Or maybe I'll see the error of my ways or how futile my attempts at fixing the timeline would be that I'll accept the government's offer and give them all the technology they want?"

_Christ, she's good_, Jack thought to himself and he felt relieved she wasn't looking at him directly because he might have given something away. He couldn't tell if she was being serious or not but it sounded more like a warning – not to underestimate her – than anything else to him. "Yeah, sure you betcha," he quipped light-heartedly, hoping she'd fall for it. Or at least be confused by his response. He could only hope she had no idea how close she was to the true nature of his assignment. Although, in a moment of weakness, he almost hoped she _did_ know because then he'd be pulled from this mess to go back to his simple life. Still, he knew better than to count on something like that; he couldn't afford to turn his back on this assignment with his son's life at stake!

"Well, since you're done helping me…" Sam let her voice trail off and her pointed look as she glanced over her shoulder at him was clear.

"Um, yeah, okay. I'll drop by later."

She escorted him to the front door, opened it and gestured for him to pass. "I can't wait," she said dryly as he stepped outside.

* * *

><p>Sam waited until he stepped into his borrowed car from the base and drove out of the street before she went back inside. Taking her time she patiently cleaned up the last of the groceries and grabbed her cap and sunglasses. Suddenly she was very aware of the surveillance equipment that was no doubt in her house, like she usually felt after spending some time outside in the garden. She moved to her bedroom, throwing the two items on her bed and snatching two clean towels from her closet under the pretext of going for a shower, in case there were cameras in here too.<p>

Once she'd closed the bathroom door, she turned on the faucet for the bath and emptied out the plastic bag she'd brought here earlier. Her heart had been pounding when she'd seen O'Neill pulling all the items from it and she'd barely been able to restrain herself. Now, she reached for the two large bottles of body wash and shaking them she heard the small items inside the right one rattle. Putting the other one back down, she opened the bottle and retrieved its contents. Sam spread out the small tools she'd bought and hid, knowing she wasn't really supposed to buy any of it according to the contract she'd signed. Well, these items weren't specifically mentioned but the OSI had probably meant that buying the parts of the electronic equipment she wasn't supposed to buy wasn't allowed either. Ah well, too bad.

Using the screwdriver she opened the back of the cheap radio she'd gotten and smiled when the parts she needed fell out. She had bought everything with cash of course, after losing her tail and had hit the tools in the large bottle of body wash – after emptying it – and the smaller electronic equipment had fitted perfectly in the back of the old radio. Once she'd retrieved all the items she took apart the radio too for its extra parts and antenna. Just in case someone would find out what she'd bought they'd never be able to guess what it was without knowing which of the radio's spare parts she was going to use too.

After ten minutes it was getting hot in the en suite because of the bath, so she quickly got up to turn it off and continued with her work. It didn't take her long to finish her homemade electromagnetic field finder and she quickly scanned the bathroom, which luckily didn't contain any bugs, just as she'd suspected. Shedding her clothes and putting on a robe, Sam slipped the EMF finder in her pocket and did a sweep of her bedroom by just walking around casually until she heard the soft beeping of her new doohickey. She was relieved to discover it was only an audio bug and quickly went back into the bathroom, hoping the warm water had cooled enough for her to take a bath. She'd finish a sweep of the rest of the house afterwards, just so she'd know what kind of information the NID was getting on her…


	7. Day Fourteen of a New Life

**Day Fourteen  
>Liddell Residence<br>Rainier, Washington**

It was warm and sunny outside when Sam stepped onto her porch. She pulled her cap a bit lower against the brightness and quickly descended the steps with her bag in hand. Her new car, a silver Prius, had finally arrived last week and even though she would have preferred a Volvo it was a nice vehicle, currently parked on her driveway. The car unlocked automatically as soon as she – or more precisely her key fob – was within reach so Sam opened the passenger door to place her bag on the seat. Closing the door, she walked around to the other side and opened that door as well. She double-checked her watch and checked her pockets for her house keys and wallet… Lately she'd been a bit absentminded and she blamed Colonel O'Neill for it; the last time she'd seen him was a week ago and seeing how he'd dropped by several times that week she kept expecting to find him on her doorstep, but so far nothing.

Sam was just about to get in the car when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She silently sent up a prayer, hoping it wasn't the man she was dreading to see and looked over her shoulder. "Oh, hey Jim," she greeted with a small smile. Jim Riker was one of the people she'd met last week, during her trip into town. He was at least ten years older than her, was divorced and had two teenage sons. He was also very talkative and a bit too friendly for her taste. She'd been tempted to shrug him off, but she hadn't wanted to draw attention to herself in the small shop or get the reputation of being unfriendly on her first outing. Her efforts at being friendly had paid off though when he'd mentioned his eldest son wanting to sell his laptop and she'd more or less jumped at the chance. Not that it was much better than the one the Air Force had provided her with, but it was one they didn't know about.

"Hi Alice!" Jim grinned widely and moved into her direction.

Knowing her new car had come with a tracking device and an audio bug – she had checked it with her EMF finder – she quickly slammed the door closed and walked up to Jim instead, meeting him at the end of the driveway. "I was just on my way out," she gestured towards her car, hoping that would be enough to get him to leave. It wasn't that she didn't like him, but she didn't want the attention and she was no good at small talk with friendly neighbors – with a small population of just 1600 people basically everyone was a neighbor, after all.

"That's a nice car," he commented.

"Thank you, it was finally delivered a few days ago," Sam replied politely. When he nodded she figured one of her nosy neighbors had probably already told the loud-mouthed, gossiping baker who'd subsequently told the rest of the town. Or maybe Tim, the owner of the car repair shop had blabbed about it. "Well, if you don't mind I really have to get going, now."

Jim nodded slowly, a bit dejectedly and took a step back. "Yeah sure, I guess I'll see you around then."

"Okay, have a nice day," she gave him a small smile and turned around to her car.

"Oh Alice, there was something I wanted to ask you!"

Grimacing, Sam took a deep breath, plastered a smile on her face and turned back. "Yes, Jim?"

"Well, you see, my son Tommy, not Jimmy, is looking for a bit of extra cash," he explained awkwardly. Jimmy was a lanky seventeen-year-old boy, not the brightest bulb in the box but he had good taste in computers – for his videogames and porn, Sam had realized after she'd bought his laptop – and was rather quiet. "He's almost sixteen and saving up to buy a car. I was wondering if maybe you needed a handyman, since you're all alone in that big house and mentioned remodeling. He's a good boy and does work around the house for a lot of folks in town, just ask around."

"Oh, that's very, eh… thoughtful of you," Sam replied after a small pause. "But I really don't need any help; most of the remodeling is already done."

Jim's face fell in disappointment but he still looked reluctant to leave. "Are you sure?"

She glanced at her watch, thinking she really should get going now when her eyes fell on the lawn. "Well, I guess he could mow the lawn…"

"That's great!" The man beamed at her. "I'll tell him to drop by tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Sure, that's fine. But I really should get going now. Bye Jim," Sam quickly said, already taking a few steps back as the words left her mouth.

"Bye and thanks again, Alice!"

She gave him a small wave before getting into her car. Checking the rearview mirror to make sure he was really gone, Sam reached for her sunglasses, checked the mirror again and set off. With a sigh she drove down her street and when she'd reached Binghampton Street she had already spotted the NID tail. Rolling her eyes at Maybourne's inadequate goons, Sam signaled and stopped by the gas station to buy herself a sandwich and a bottle of water before she continued on her way.

At least now she wouldn't have to worry about the lawn anymore, if Tommy would mow it. She didn't have any gardening tools but she assumed the boy had his own or maybe he would borrow it from someone else, everyone seemed to be very friendly with each other here. Sam figured that by giving the boy something to do people would think she was just like any other person in town and while it might cost her –the OSI, really – some bucks it would also save her some time and energy, which she could use for other things. Besides, she felt like she sort of owed the family because thanks to the other Riker boy, Jimmy, she had gotten a reasonable laptop for a very low price and the best part about it was no one important knew about it.

She'd asked Jimmy to keep a hold on the laptop for her until she could pick it up because she didn't want to bring it home with her in case Colonel O'Neill would drop by and find it or someone would spot it on the surveillance equipment in her house. It was a bit of risk since she'd already paid him but Jim had promised her the boy would keep his word. A day later she'd gotten a call from Special Agent Wood and for a moment she'd wondered how the hell she'd found out, until the woman explained that they were going to bring her new car around later that afternoon. So Sam had gone about her day and when Jim had dropped by and offered to take her garbage – from the torn down kitchen wall and some old furniture she didn't want – to the landfill with his truck, she'd helped him load up the stuff and had asked him if it was okay for her to pick up the laptop the next morning, since she would have her car by then and would be able to take it to a safe deposit box in a bank in Olympia before she'd go to that city's library for research.

When she'd been getting in her car the next morning to pick it up, Jimmy had shown up on her driveway with the laptop because his father had told him to drop it off at her place before he went into school, which was close to her house. Sam had thanked him and gone on her way but she'd parked the car off the road a few miles before reaching the center of Olympia, near Hoskins Field. She'd popped the hood and futzed with the engine before calling in a towing company, knowing the NID was tailing her and needing a valid excuse to wait there. While she'd been waiting, she'd reached into her bag for her homemade cantenna – an antenna in a Pringles can, made with a few connectors and cables from the old radio and TV Jim had taken to the landfill the day before, to pick up a wireless network – and had hooked it up to the laptop.

Within minutes she'd found and hacked into a WiFi network and had written a simple program to run her internet connection through over a dozen servers worldwide and mask her location so she could create a false identity. It hadn't really been that difficult since she'd been involved in the process before in her timeline to create a false birth certificate and whatnot for Cassandra Fraiser, Teal'c as well as Jonas Quinn and countless of other alien refugees before they'd been able to hand over such matters to Homeworld Security. By the time the tow truck came to take her back to Rainier's local auto repair shop she'd set up the basics, just enough to use the identity to apply for membership at Olympia's Credit Union to hire a safe deposit box for her laptop and cantenna there because she couldn't use her real name or current alias in case the NID or OSI had it flagged in the system.

In the following days she'd expanded upon the fake ID, hacking into certain databases to create a background and education for her alter ego in case someone would try to run a background check on her and get her the proper qualifications to be able to set up a company. She didn't want to use the government-supplied laptop for these activities but that also meant she needed a cover to be able to work on it, so she'd taken to going to the Olympia Timberland Library every morning and after doing some other research – into _Achilles,_ the timeline changes and a solution among other things – she'd pretend to go to the bathroom and slip out unnoticed by her NID tail to retrieve her laptop from the bank and work on the laptop unmonitored for about half an hour before she made her way back. She had no idea what the NID goons thought she was doing in the bathroom for all that time but they were still patiently waiting every time she came back. If she were honest she would have expected better from Maybourne's cronies but she'd take whatever she could get at this point.

"Here we are," Sam mumbled, shaking her head to focus on today's plan. It had taken her almost forty minutes to get here today, she realized as she parked her new car in front of the Olympia Timberland Library. She'd eaten the sandwich while driving but took the water bottle with her and left her sunglasses in the car. Sam briefly wondered if the NID training in this timeline didn't cover tailing a target or if they purposely showed themselves to let her know she was being watched when their car drove past her and parked on the other side of the parking lot. They could at least change cars every now and then or maybe rotate personnel so she didn't recognize them every time.

Shrugging to herself she took her bag, got out and walked into the library. After her previous visits she knew her way around, nodded at the librarians and walked to her 'usual' table. Now that it was summer it was rather quiet in the library, just as she preferred. Every so often there would be some people, sometimes families walking around to get a few books or use the computers on the other side of the room, but overall it was quiet, even for a library. In a way it reminded her of when she used to study for exams in the local library to escape her arguing father and brother and there had even been a couple of dozen missions with SG-1 where she and Daniel had been stuck off-world in something resembling a library of some alien culture. But now she was all alone, no bickering family members to escape or alien culture to explore. It was just her, Sam – well, Alice really.

It didn't take long for one of the NID goons to position himself in the corridor leading to her area and, knowing their routine by now his partner was probably browsing through the DVD section in the multimedia area. Sam ignored them as she placed her stuff on the table and went looking for the books she wanted. She knew she'd bored them enough in the past few days for them to keep their distance, which was exactly what she'd intended. Once she'd found the right books she continued her research, memorizing all the important details because she didn't want to leave any physical notes just in case…

After two hours of reading Sam put the books back, grabbed her bag and went to the ladies room to do her daily escape routine. As usual one of the NID goons checked to see where she went before he immersed himself in his magazine again. She rolled her eyes and suppressed a smile as she closed the door behind her and hit the timer on her watch. Opening her bag she pulled out the case containing the non-prescription glasses her handlers had given her and placed them on the counter. Quickly checking the stalls and seeing no one was present, she took off her cap, stuffing it in her handbag and shook her hair free. She combed her long locks back with her fingers and pulled it in a high ponytail. What was left of her bangs – it was more a lock with this length – she pinned back with a clip and then she put on the fake glasses.

The reflection staring back at her was slightly unfamiliar, but she shrugged it off without really thinking about it. She'd gone over a lot of pictures of the mission commander and one thing they all had in common was that the woman never seemed to have her hair out of her face. Sam usually didn't either, unless she was in the shower or swimming and she figured this made the resemblance to the dead astronaut a bit less obvious. After slinging her bag over her shoulder she moved to the outer wall and opened the window. With little effort she pulled herself up, slid through it and landed on the outside. It was almost embarrassing how easy it was to get away, she thought to herself as she closed the window nearly all the way, leaving just enough room to be able to open it from the outside.

The bank with her safe deposit box was less than two minutes on foot but she still made sure to hurry because she had no idea how long this was going to take. Just like the previous times she'd come in here around the same time it was rather quiet, which meant easy and quick access for her.

After retrieving Jimmy's old laptop and her cantenna from the box she made her way out of the bank and rushed over to Sylvester Park where she found a nice, somewhat secluded spot under a tree. Sam booted up the computer and hooked up the cantenna to her laptop. It didn't take long to pick up on a Wi-Fi network and once she'd found one that suited her needs, she hacked into the system and ran another program on her laptop, allowing her internet connection to route through several servers on the continent before it went global and masked her IP address. After all these days it had almost become habit and took her only moments to set up.

Satisfied with covering her tracks, Sam took a deep breath and accessed the Pentagon's mainframe. She'd already done this two days ago and had planted a seemingly harmless file, which could be considered a backdoor to the system to save her some time as it allowed her access wherever she needed – and remain undetected. Now she just had to bypass the login system and open the file. It was almost scary how easy this came to her, she thought and was briefly reminded of the Replicator version Fifth had made of her.

_You have untapped greatness inside you, Sam. But you're limited by your own fears. You play by the rules, you do as you're told and you deny yourself your own desires._

At that time she hadn't wanted to believe the Replicator but now Sam knew there was at least a grain of truth in it because she had already decided that nothing and no one was going to stop her from righting this wrong, even it meant breaking the rules and ignoring what she was told to do. She swallowed hard, trying to forget about 'RepliCarter's' – as Jack had referred to her later on – words and focused on what she'd come here to do. A glance at her watch told her it had been twelve minutes since she'd left the library and now she had access to one of the military's satellites aimed at North America. Up until now she hadn't fully understood how advanced even Earth-based technology had become in her timeline because this had been a piece of cake and the security was flawed. The secrecy that had come with the Stargate Program had required the most advanced security they could think of and as the years had passed their knowledge and understanding of technology had grown, and it had led to superior security – not just for the SGC, HWS or Area 51 but all military installations.

Sam sighed as she sent an update to the satellite and waited until the upload was complete. With a few keystrokes she typed in the necessary commands and then allowed it to run her newly uploaded program, which she'd specifically written to locate Daniel and Cameron. It hadn't taken her long to think of a way to find them because even though all their personal possessions and clothing items had been taken from them, their subcutaneous transmitters had never been discovered. Those had been made to be undetectable to normal scans in case SGC personnel was captured by the enemy so one of the ships in orbit could locate and beam them out. Unfortunately there weren't any space ships in this timeline or Asgard beaming technology, but when she'd headed Stargate Research and Development at Area 51 she'd come up with the locator chips' concept because she knew the locator beacons weren't reliable enough and could easily get lost or damaged; a year later when she'd been back on SG-1 they'd been implemented. So she knew exactly how they worked and how to locate them.

She startled when the program made a bleeping noise and guiltily looked around to see if someone had noticed, but no one was paying attention to her. "Forty, forty-three, seventy-four, double-oh," Sam muttered, trying to memorize the numbers. When the computer bleeped again she saw a different number. "Thirty-nine, sixteen, twenty-nine, ninety-seven, forty-five, fifty-nine." Her fingers flew over the keyboard to copy the rest of the data – there would be time later to check or, if necessary, extrapolate their exact locations – and saved it before disconnecting. Her heart was racing when she was done and she let out a deep sigh, trying to calm her frayed nerves. A glance at her watch told her she'd been gone for almost half an hour and she quickly turned off the laptop, unhooked the cantenna and placed both in her bag before making her way back to the bank to put her laptop and homemade antenna in her safe deposit box.

Once Sam was back to her usual look in the restroom of the library, she slowly made her way down the hall and stopped to get a chocolate candy bar and a coffee from a snack vendor. She leisurely strolled back to her table, noticing the man behind the magazine immediately whispering to his 'sleeve' from her periphery and took her seat. Sipping her coffee she tried to appear calm, as if she hadn't just run around her block and hacked into a military satellite and focus on the people around her. There were still only a handful present plus herself and the two NID goons, which suited her just fine. As she unwrapped the chocolate bar she couldn't help but think that hacking the satellite was like stealing candy from a baby…

* * *

><p><strong>1552 hours<br>O'Neill's Quarters  
>McChord AFB<br>Lakewood, Washington**

Jack was playing chess on his laptop, impatiently waiting until it was sixteen hundred hours, knowing that his wife always visited her father, Mike on Monday afternoons and if she was home alone she'd stay there for dinner. But with the summer vacation their son was home instead of at his dorm and she had to feed the college student so she'd make sure to be home around seventeen hundred hours, just like when Jack himself wasn't on assignment. That meant, with the time difference between the two cities that she'd be home any minute now and he should probably check in with her. She'd already left him a message on his voicemail earlier today, probably when she'd been on her way over to her Dad's but he'd been in a meeting with the NID and Hammond for an update on his charge.

According to Maybourne Samantha Carter had been filling her days with either doing some remodeling at home or spending hours at a time at a library in Olympia. Jack thought that had been a good excuse for him to stay away from her for now, because it would be hard to catch her at home and just plain creepy to follow her to the library – plus it would reveal they were tracing her whereabouts. He'd been surprised to learn her car had already broken down the day after she'd gotten it, though; it had been a second-hand car but according to the OSI report it had been in tiptop condition and they'd naturally looked it over quite thoroughly before providing her with it. Apparently it had been only a small problem though because the owner of the auto repair shop in her little town had fixed it quickly and within an hour she'd been on her way to the library again.

He had no idea what she'd been doing there but according to Simmons' tail she spent most of her time reading scientific and historic books there. On his next visit he would ask her – casually, without tipping his hand – about her reading interests and hobbies because he wasn't sure what to think of her reading up on her history… after all, she and her friends had been pretty adamant about that evil alien, Bocce or whatever his name was, having traveled back in time to change the course of history. Of course it could be something as simple as her sharing some of that Jackson guy's interests after having worked with him for so long or maybe she wanted to check all the differences between her timeline and this one. Or maybe she was doing research and hoping to find a way to undo what that alien had done! After all, by reading the books in the library she wouldn't have to check them out and so she'd think they wouldn't know what she was up to… God, thinking about different timelines made his head hurt.

Groaning, Jack turned away from his game – and thoughts – after saving it and reached for his cell phone as he closed his laptop. He had no idea what to tell Sara but considering she'd called him, he figured it would be best to give her a call. Besides, it would be nice to hear a friendly and familiar voice again. It only took a few rings before the house phone was answered.

_"O'Neill residence."_

"Hey Sara, it's me," he replied.

_"Jack! How are you, is everything okay?"_

He automatically nodded before he realized she couldn't see him. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just wanted to check in. How's Mike doing?"

_"Oh_," she sounded genuinely surprised to hear his reason for calling her. _"Mike's all right, but I think he's lonely…"_

Crap, what was he supposed to say to that? "Well… I'm sure he enjoys your visits," Jack cringed at his own reply. "And he's got friends there, right? I'm sure he's fine."

_"I hope so. It's just that since the couple next door, who were both just seventy, died last month he seems… I don't know, maybe more aware of his age and today he told me that his fishing buddy is going to move to a nursing home, because his daughter from out of state thinks it's too dangerous for the man to live alone but she doesn't want him to move in with her and her family so they're basically just sending him away for their own peace of mind."_

"Oy! Well, you know, maybe that's for the best-"

_"Mike said the man's turning eighty-one in two weeks but that he's as fit as men half his age!"_

Jack pensively stared at his phone for a moment before he put it back to his ear, contemplating what to say to make her feel better. "That's got to be tough-"

_"Yes, so I was thinking maybe Mike should spend some time here. It might do him some good to be surrounded by his family."_

"I guess," he mumbled, wondering what to make of that. "You know, Sara, I'm hoping to come home next week for a brief visit maybe we can discuss it then. I'll talk to my CO tomorrow and see if I can take a few days; maybe we can go up to the cabin."

_"Are you sure?"_ Despite her wary tone Jack could swear he heard a soft smile in her words. _"Mike loves fishing too…"_

Rolling his eyes and dragging a hand through his hair, he grimaced. "Maybe we can all go. I'll let you know as soon as I hear something, okay?"

"Thank you… I'll let everyone know. I love you, Jack."

"I love you too, baby," he said with a soft smile before disconnecting the call. Perhaps spending time with his family was what Jack himself needed as well, even if his father-in-law – who, while they got along had never liked it that Jack spent so much time away from his family – was going to join them. This whole thing about timelines and dead astronauts had thrown him for a loop and his conflicting feelings about his assignment– or his charge, Sam, he couldn't really decide – was driving him crazy, nuts, insane, bonzo… Wacko! It would be nice to have the people he loved around him for a bit.

* * *

><p><strong>Liddell Residence<br>Rainier, Washington**

Sam, having parked her car, was already opening the door to the house without waiting for the garage door to close behind her. Once inside she pulled the pocket door of the pantry open and started putting away her groceries. A sad smile crossed her face when she lifted the last item out of the bag, a box of Frootees and although the reminder elicited a pang in her heart she couldn't help herself but buy her Jack's favorite breakfast. It was the only part of her routine that was still the same; buying his cereal during her weekly shopping trip whenever she was on Earth. She hadn't been able to do that when she was on Atlantis but at least then she'd had the small reminder whenever she went to the commissary and spotted the breakfast item there.

Shaking herself and pushing those thoughts away, she took the few perishables with her into the kitchen and placed them into the fridge. When she'd decided to go home at the library she'd dropped by a supermarket for her groceries and had picked up two flash drives in the discount area for when she was ready to contact Daniel and Cam. She knew it was risky to buy the items but her tail hadn't followed her into the store and she'd made sure to separate them from her other groceries and had paid for them in cash, unlike the rest just in case they somehow got their hands on her receipt. The two USB drives were almost burning a hole in her jeans pocket now but despite the risk of keeping them at the house, she'd decided to hide them in her bathroom – where there were no bugs – and take them with her to the bank tomorrow, to store them in the safe deposit box together with her laptop and cantenna.

It had taken some thinking but in the end she'd decided it would be best to use a delivery service to send both of her friends a flash drive after placing some necessary software on it. Considering Colonel O'Neill's involvement in her case Sam assumed she was the most important target to the NID and perhaps they or the Navy also had an interest in Daniel, because of their expertise and experience with the Stargate and other alien-related technology. However, she couldn't be certain the boys weren't under the same surveillance she was so she would copy the program she'd written to disable the software Felger had installed on her laptop on the two drives, as well as another program she had yet to create.

Of all the possible ways to communicate – letters, postcards, calls, emails, internet messages on different websites et cetera – she figured this would probably be the most secure, especially if she was going to send it from her new alias' future company. But just to be on the safe side in case their communication would be intercepted she was going to write a program to be able to use the language of the Ancients, something the NID and OSI would be unable to decipher. Daniel was fluent in Ancient and she had gotten pretty good at it as well over the years, especially after commanding Atlantis for a year… Cam would probably have the most trouble with it but she'd already gotten the impression in the hangar that he wasn't even sure if he _wanted_ to change the timeline. She hoped she was wrong, because with or without his help she'd do whatever's in her power to undo what Ba'al has done and although she didn't really need his expertise she would appreciate the support. Or just to see him again. Either way, she'd come to the conclusion that communications in Ancient would be the best way to go but that would require a special program since it wasn't available on a regular word processor.

Tomorrow she'd check the coordinates of Daniel and Cam's locator chips, trace the addresses and check the homeowners to find out what their new IDs are. She wasn't in any rush because she wouldn't contact them until she'd set up her new salvaging business, which was going to take longer than a few days. Her alias was complete and she was going to dig into the required paperwork the rest of the week, but the most important thing she needed was going to take a while; money. She couldn't use the allowance from the OSI; she'd already spent too much of that money on things she couldn't explain but it had been necessary to start up her double life. Or was that triple life? Either way she had to think of a way to get more money, preferably the legal way before she could set up her company and contact her friends…

Sam could only hope they were all right and settling into their new lives nicely. Well, not settling in too much but she didn't want them to have any problems either. Cameron seemed to be able to chitchat with anyone so she figured he would make new 'friends' soon and while Daniel was pretty social too, she feared he would have more trouble adapting. Not just because of his leg but because of the new world they found themselves in. Their identities were gone, everything that had defined them over the past decade, their best friend – Jack – had died in front of them and they had been unable to save him and had no idea what had happened to Teal'c and Vala either. Or the rest of the Tok'ra or everyone back on Earth. Sam hadn't allowed herself to think about Cassandra yet, because she didn't want to know if the young woman had simply ceased to exist, if she'd died all alone on Hanka after Nirrti's experiment years ago or if she was back with her biological family and living a simple life on her home planet…


	8. Day Twenty of a New Life

**Day 20  
>O'Neill Cabin<br>Lake County, Minnesota**

It was crowded on the small dock but no one seemed to mind, as they hadn't gotten up yet despite their early rise. When daybreak had come, Jack's internal clock had awoken him and he'd quickly rolled out of bed, careful not to wake his wife because she wasn't such an early bird. He'd quickly slipped on his khaki shorts and made coffee in the kitchen before he'd opened the doors to the back deck, breathing in the early morning air and blinking stupidly at the bright sky. By the time the coffee was ready he'd headed back into the cabin to wake up his son and nearly bumped into his father-in-law, Mike. When he'd finally managed to drag Tyler out of his bed Mike had already been sitting on the dock in one of the chairs, with their fishing rods and coffee awaiting their arrival. Jack had quickly taken the other chair and Tyler had graciously sat down on the dock itself, his feet legs dangling over the edge and mumbling something about being able to endure the discomfort.

Now, hours later just as Jack was beginning to feel he'd been sitting in the same position for too long, Tyler blindly reached behind him, his hand patting the wood and Jack looked on with an amused smile. "What are you looking for, kid?"

"The thermos, Dad," he mumbled, glancing over his shoulder. "Aha!" He cried out triumphantly when he found it, but his shoulders quickly sagged in disappointment. "Ah fu-_crap_, we're out of coffee!"

Jack, keeping an eye on Mike had quickly nudged his son's ribs when he was about to complain. Being in the military had given him plenty of ways and reasons to swear but he knew Sara and her father didn't like it when he or Tyler uttered profanities, so he always tried to avoid it when being at home. Luckily, Tyler had gotten the hint and corrected himself before getting a disapproving glare from Mike and he even had the grace to look embarrassed. Jack doubted the boy felt any shame when he was around his friends but at least he hadn't lost all the good manners Sara had taught him when he went to college. "I'll go get some more," he offered, holding out his hand for the thermos.

"Nah, it's fine, Dad. You and Grampa stay here and I'll get it. Who knows, you might even catch some fish!" Tyler replied with a huge grin as he pointed towards the bucket that held the bass he'd caught – the only catch since they got up.

"Don't you get smart with me, boy," Jack chuckled as he got up. "Gimme that," he reached for the thermos again. "This old man needs to stretch his legs anyway."

Mike grinned at the two of them, obviously enjoying the banter. "Come on, son," he beckoned his grandson to the empty seat beside him. "Show me how it's done."

"Sure, Gramps!"

Jack shook his head in amusement at their low voices as he, flask in hand, went back into the cabin. He was pleasantly surprised to find his wife making pancakes in the kitchen and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Hey, I didn't know you were up."

Sara smiled and gestured towards the dock. "I came out and saw the three of you having fun… it's been a while since I've heard you all laugh, so I didn't want to interrupt."

"You were more than welcome to join us," he replied, eyeing her over his shoulder as he made a new pot of coffee.

"I've done enough fishing these past few days," she grinned. "Besides, I thought I could make the three most important men in my life breakfast."

Coming to stand behind her Jack rested his hands on her shoulders and pressed a kiss in her slightly graying hair. "That's sweet, baby. But you do know we've already had breakfast, right?"

"Well, that must have been hours ago, I've already been up for about an hour and you boys haven't moved from the dock the entire time!"

"Already?" He teased, squeezing the muscles in her neck gently. "It's almost eleven hundred hours!"

She shrugged and he was sure she was rolling her eyes at him even though he couldn't see it. "Just because you get up at the crack of dawn…"

"You're right, I know. I was just teasing," he offered, unsure if she was really upset with him or just didn't care. "But it's the best time for fishing! Mike got up around the same time, but I literally had to drag Tyler out of his bed."

"At least you got him out; he's been sleeping in longer than I did this morning ever since he got home," Sara muttered as she stepped aside with the batter in her hands.

Jack frowned, glancing at his son and father-in-law outside on the dock. "Is that so?"

She turned around to face him and shrugged. "I know he's been busy all year with school, but he just comes and goes whenever he feels like it… and that's okay, he's not a child anymore but he still expects me to do his washing and cooking without telling me when he's going to be home!"

"I'll talk to him," he muttered. Most of the time Tyler would listen to him but Jack didn't always want to have to be the bad guy. These days when he _was_ home his son was usually away at college unless he had a break or wanted to escape his latest "clingy" ex-girlfriend so he just wanted to enjoy the time they had together. For some reason that need had only gotten stronger since he'd met the trio that day in the Arctic and they'd said his son had killed himself with his gun.

"Thank you," she smiled and turned her attention back to the pancakes she'd been making. "These are almost done; do you want to eat out back or in here?"

Jack didn't really care one way or another but seeing his son and father-in-law chatting happily on the dock made him wave in their direction. "We can eat outside. I'll set the table. But first I need to refill this one," he mumbled, holding up the reason he'd come inside in the first place.

Sara tossed the last pancakes on a plate and turned off the gas before she made her way over to the door. "I'm glad we came here. Not just because of Tyler, but I think it has done Mike good too."

"Yeah, he seems to be enjoying himself," he agreed as he poured the coffee in the thermos. "I haven't heard him talk this much in a long time… Neither of them, actually."

"None of you are big on talking," his wife reminded him as she walked back into the kitchen.

"I thought you liked that about me!" He grinned and waggled his brows before he turned around to get the plates and cutlery.

When he got the items and the thermos in hand, she stopped him though, suddenly serious. "Jack? You've seemed distracted and tense lately; I thought this new assignment was supposed to be easier for you? Don't get me wrong, this weekend you've been joking and talking more but you were in one of those moods when you got home…"

"I'm fine, baby. I guess I've been working too much and I just missed you and Tyler," he tried to reassure her. For a moment Sara narrowed her eyes, clearly gauging him before she nodded and shooed him out of the kitchen with a smile. Jack wasn't entirely sure which one of his moods she'd been referring to; she usually used those terms for the dark ones but she was probably talking about how distracted he'd been. It was true that he'd been preoccupied when he finally got home after another boring and drawn out meeting with Maybourne and Simmons, not to mention the long flight! But as soon as he'd laid eyes on his son and had hugged the young man he'd become, the words about his fate and the trio's role in had reverberated through his mind and he'd wrapped his arms a bit tighter around him before he'd shrugged it off as simply having missed him. For some reason he'd also felt guilty towards Sara even though he hadn't done anything wrong, but the assignment was weighing heavily on him and not just because of Sam Carter's wounded eyes. His family meant a great deal to him, they were one of the reasons he wanted to serve his country so he could keep them safe.

Jack sighed as he stepped out on the deck and started setting the table. Mike had always gotten along great with Tyler and he was pleased to see their bond was as strong now as it used to be, despite the two of them not spending much time together lately. But they both loved fishing and planes and no doubt Tyler was sharing some of his better stories about college with the old man. He'd talk to the boy about his behavior towards Sara later; he didn't want to ruin the moment. Smirking once he was done with the table, he moved towards the dock. "Whad'ya catch?"

"Oh, I already threw it back, son. I'm sure the kid's bass is enough for dinner," Mike made a vague gesture at the pond.

Tyler swiftly turned around in his chair, grinning. "I think Gramps caught my old gold fish, Dad; it was _this_ small," he laughed, holding up a shaking hand trying to indicate the fish's size.

"That boy of yours has got no manners, I'm telling you. I'm going to need to talk to my daughter about that!" Mike spurred him on, prodding his grandson in the ribs with his elbow as he winked at Jack.

Their laughter was infectious and Jack chuckled along, shaking his head at their antics. "You might want to wait until after dinner for that because you know she hates preparing fish!"

"Hey, Tyler can do that!"

"Sure Gramps," he bobbed head, still grinning.

Jack clasped his son's shoulder and gave it an encouraging squeeze. "Your Mom's almost done making us pancakes and I've set the table already. Now why don't you scoot and let your old man back on his chair so I can get some last minute fishing in," he jerked his head towards the deck where Tyler had been sitting all morning.

"No way, Dad! I've been sitting there all morning, have caught dinner _and_ I'm already gutting the fish tonight!" He shook his head and gripped the chair's armrests tightly in protest.

Smirking, Jack grabbed the back of the chair, trying to cant it so his son would fall out of it, but they were both strong and stubborn, each struggling and holding on. "Suit yourself, kid," he chuckled, lifting the chair.

"Nah-uh!"Tyler was persistent though, gripping the armrests tighter and hooking his feet around the chair's legs, all the while shaking with laughter.

Impressed with his son's determination, he resorted to drastic measure and moved closer to the dock's edge under Mike's cheering – for whom he wasn't sure. "Last chance!" Jack warned the young man and when he shook his head, he really used his arm and back muscles, using all his strength to dangle the chair above the water.

"Argh!"

Jack and Mike roared with laughter when Tyler slid out of the chair because of the impossible angle and fell into the pond with a loud splash. Seconds later the college student came up for air, sputtering and glaring at the two of them but the effect was lost with his hair hanging over his forehead and some algae on his shoulder.

"Dad!" He cried indignantly.

"Aw, look what you've done," Mike said after he calmed down. "Now he scared all the fish away," he slapped Jack on the back and grinned at his grandson. "I'll get you a towel, son."

Jack, still smirking, leaned down as his father-in-law went back into the house – he heard him relay the story to Sara – to get a towel. "Need a hand?"

"Now my hair's all messed up," Tyler complained as he reached out to his father's hand, no doubt worried about all the goo called hair product sliding down his neck and face. "Got'cha!" He cried out when they grabbed each other's wrists and he pulled hard.

Losing his balance, Jack tumbled forward and landed in the water next to him. "Ah crap!" He muttered as he came up, rubbing his hands over his hair and face.

"Fair is fair," his son said in a tone that was probably meant as self-assured, but still sounded a bit unsure as if he wasn't sure if he'd gone too far.

"You bet'cha," Jack replied with a grin as he splashed some water in Tyler's face in revenge. He remembered all too well how much fun they used to have during their trips up to the cabin years ago and even when he himself had been a kid and lived with his grandparents. "Come on, let's get out of here before we miss the pancakes!"

Tyler returned the lopsided grin, pushing his dark blond hair out of his face with one hand and slapping his father's shoulder with the other. "I missed this, Dad," he admitted shyly.

"Me too, kiddo," he returned with a lump in his throat, slinging an arm around the boy's shoulders.

After a moment his son shrugged off the arm, obviously embarrassed with their display of affection and hoisted himself up on the deck. "Need a hand?"

Jack grabbed it and easily pulled himself up as well. Simultaneously the two of them shed their wet shirts and shook their heads, water drops from their hair flying through the air.

"Make that two towels, Dad!" Sara's voice sounded from the deck, amusement evident in her tone.

* * *

><p><strong>Sylvester Park<br>Olympia, Washington**

Sam was busily typing away on her second laptop in her secluded spot in the park near the library. These past few days her annoying habit of getting lost in her work had reared its ugly head again and she'd decided to set an alarm on her watch, to make sure she didn't stay away long enough to alert the NID tail. It was getting harder and harder to complete her work in the less than thirty minutes she could afford to be here. It seemed more people were turning up at the bank lately and she lost precious time there on her pick up and drop off of the laptop and cantenna. Not only was she losing minutes there, but she'd also set her alter ego, Therra – a name that was once again hers – up with a PO box at the post office on the other side of the library, which was an additional three-minute walk in the opposite direction of the bank.

The PO Box had been a necessity though because she'd had Therra's new secretary, Melinda Warren, send Daniel and Cameron their easily recognizable flash drives after finishing the program and they would need an address to return their answer to, plus it would be where Therra would receive her mail. She'd also found a small place to rent that could function as a temporary office for Melinda until her marine salvaging company's paperwork was complete and she had the funds and location for a real HQ. She had paid up front for two months with money she'd won playing pool in the local bar but right now that was about it, she couldn't afford to use the OSI's allowance to pay for it because she'd already used too much of it – in cash of course – to set everything up and she was pretty sure the whole town knew Alice Liddell was a pool shark by now. There hadn't been any questions because she'd been careful but she also knew it would look suspicious if she'd have some month left at the end of her money instead of the other way around.

She'd looked for a suitable secretary through online job applications and after three interviews – all during the time she'd snuck out of the library – this past week she'd met Melinda, who was in her early thirties and needed money because she had just come out of a bad relationship. Even better was that Melinda, not having any living relatives, was willing to move to the east coast with the company if necessary because of her violent ex. Plus she was more than qualified for the job, but because her then-boyfriend had made her stop working other companies were unwilling to hire her because she had a gap of five years in her resume. Melinda only knew her as Therra though and because of her busy life Sam had told her they would remain in contact via email or phone calls – via the internet from her side – and every now and then she'd drop by the office. She knew it was a risk but at the moment she had to take it because there was no way she could be there regularly to oversee everything without tipping off the NID or O'Neill.

One of the librarians at Olympia Timberland Library, Marilyn Jones, always tried to make small talk with her and because she had worked there for years Sam's NID tails didn't think that was strange, especially not if you took into consideration that the woman worked long days in almost complete silence with the exception of the small chitchat here and there. It wouldn't have been interesting at all to anyone – Sam was always grasping for a mundane conversation topic – if Marilyn hadn't mentioned her son, a Business Administration graduate spending the vacation back at home in the hopes of finding a job to make some money before he'd start on his master after the summer. She'd casually mentioned a friend of hers, Therra starting a new company in the marine salvaging business, who could maybe use some help with all the paperwork and filing for the proper required official documents. Marilyn had jumped at the mention and had given her son's contact information and she'd emailed him yesterday.

Sam had also created a proper – digital – paper trail for Therra, including false bank statements for the offshore account she was going to open for her company once she got the necessary money. For now she had a plan to get that money legally but it would require Colonel O'Neill's help – without him knowing, of course – and if that failed she figured she could always turn to… less legal ways. But at the moment she felt too honorable to do such a thing without exploring other options and would only resort to such measures if necessary.

_Speak of the devil_, she thought to herself when she got through the last hurdle of the military database and found herself looking at the non-scrubbed personnel file of a Colonel John J. O'Neill, born October 20 1952, social security number 799 36 6412, service number 69-4-141, blood type B negative, religion Roman Catholic, pilot and specialized in Special Forces. Sam highly doubted this timeline's Jack O'Neill _was_ practicing his religion and despite already having more or less expected it, she was still surprised to see the information matched her Jack's file. Her finger hovered over the mousepad when she saw the link to his dependents but she quickly moved the cursor away and decided to delve into his military record instead.

Even before she'd met her Jack she had already gone through his history with a fine toothcomb after being told she was finally allowed to go to Cheyenne Mountain and work with the man who'd led the first mission – or so they thought at the time – through the Stargate, despite having to… be creative to gain full and unlimited access to the file because it was difficult to understand his personality from the scrubbed version. Anyway, with her eidetic memory she'd only had to go through it once and even now could still recall all the details of the missions he'd participated in, led and suffered through.

It was somewhat surprising to see here that there _were_ actual differences between the man she loved and his counterpart in this timeline. Of course she had expected that nothing would be the same after '97 but then she realized the differences had to have occurred earlier considering her Jack had lost the most precious thing to him, his son Charlie, through a self-inflicted accidental gun shut before the first mission to Abydos and this O'Neill had clearly stated that his son was fine back at the submarine! While she and Jack didn't talk much about Charlie, she knew the perhaps single most important date of his life that had led to his biggest and most devastating loss by heart. This Colonel O'Neill had been doing a – for him routine – long-term covert black op mission on that date starting three weeks earlier; he'd never been home to have that initial disagreement about water pistols and neither had been his loaded nine millimeter handgun two weeks later.

For some reason she felt an irrational anger towards… well, everything that had conspired against _her_ Jack and turned some mundane argument about playing with guns, even a water pistol into such a heartbreaking event that had left him depressed and suicidal – the perfect candidate for General West and the boys at the Pentagon to send through the Stargate into the unknown. Why him and not this timeline's O'Neill? What made this guy so damn special? Shaking herself, Sam tried to remind herself that she was being completely unreasonable because she'd never wish anyone the death of a child, not even the people in this timeline who prevented her from fixing what Ba'al had done. Her heart just ached for her Jack, the man who'd been left broken after losing his young son and whose loss was still so recent and painful to her heart.

Blinking rapidly against the tears welling up in her eyes, she tried to read through the rest of his past missions to find more discrepancies. There were a few here and there, some names were different but nothing consequential until… prompting the database to do a search, she realized that there was one other major difference. It wasn't one of his parachute incidents or the betrayal of Cromwell, which led to O'Neill being a prisoner of war for months in Iraq. No, it was a relatively old mission and yet one that must have had an impact. Not only to him and his fellow teammates but perhaps to the rest of the timeline as well, Sam mused. She remembered the mission, Operation East Fly back in nineteen eighty-two.

Not that she'd been a part of it but she had heard all about "the most blown" operation Jack had ever been involved with – well, before they'd met Ba'al, at least – in the second year of the Program during a debriefing of their mission to P7J-989 where they'd met the horrible Keeper who had made Daniel and Jack relive painful memories, trying to make them explore different scenarios but they all ended with the same outcome; Daniel watched his parents die over and over, while Jack watched his friend and commander, Colonel Michaels die during a retrieval mission of a Russian agent codenamed Boris. That however wasn't the difference; both men, USAF and Russian operatives had died and the operation still went to hell, but Captain Charles Kawalsky was missing. And the search she'd just done yielded no results for any shared missions between Kawalsky and O'Neill.

Suddenly she went back to the beginning and forced herself to click on O'Neill's dependants. He was still married to Sara! Even though this wasn't her Jack, Sam still felt like she'd been stabbed in the heart. Swallowing against the lump in the throat, she took another look and saw they had a son – she'd already known that – and his name was… Tyler! It wasn't Charlie! She knew Major Charles "Charlie" Kawalsky and her Jack had been very good friends and even though she had only known the Major for a short time, she knew Jack had cared a great deal about him. Probably enough to name his firstborn after the man who'd probably saved his life once or twice during all the years they'd been working together.

In this timeline though, they'd never met and Jack had never named his son after his friend. Instead the boy's name was Tyler and he'd never died, he was old enough to be in college by now. He'd never been involved with a gun and knowing her Jack, she doubted this Colonel O'Neill would have allowed his son to play with guns. That, in turn meant that this O'Neill had never divorced his wife, been depressed or suicidal and General West had never recalled him to send him on a suicide mission through the Stargate because there _was_ no Stargate! It was still aboard _Achilles_, which was stuck in the ice in the Arctic Ocean and never reached the United States – just like Cam's grandfather!

Sam was as much as a scientist as she was a soldier and she knew all about – and believed in – cause and effect, but in how far? Could it be just because Ba'al had somehow ensured the Stargate never reached the US, O'Neill and Kawalsky had never met because they were never going to go to Abydos? That O'Neill's son, _Tyler_, hadn't died because the man didn't have to be depressed and suicidal over his son's death to take on a suicide mission, only to be convinced by the Daniel Jackson, Skaara, Kawalsky and other Abydonians he'd never met to fight to live another day? That all that, which had never happened, hadn't resulted in a second mission to Abydos where Apophis had attacked the locals and the SG teams, kidnapping Sha're – who'd never met Daniel – and Skaara, and taking them to Chulak where Kawalsky had been Goa'uld'ed and eventually died?

Could it be that everything had to unfold the way it had because of the Stargate and SGC? Did her Jack have to lose his son in a terrible accident so they would meet and work side by side for the planet's safety? Was it possible there really was such a thing as fate? One that was impossibly cruel to the man she loved…?

_Beep, beep, beep!_

Startled by her watch's alarm, Sam turned it off and quickly disconnected from the internet after making sure there were no traces of her little visit. She cast one last glance at the sky before she got up and wondered about all that she'd learned in these twenty-five minutes. It really didn't bear thinking about…

* * *

><p><strong>Apartment Building<br>New York City, New York**

Jack groaned as he climbed the last few steps. He was seriously pissed off and not just because the elevator wasn't working and he'd been forced to use the stairs to get to the fourth floor. No, he was pissed because the weekend with his family had been cut short by a call from Hammond, who'd been contacted by General Kennedy; they needed someone to check on that archeologist they'd hidden away but his handlers were unavailable due to one of their other cases being on trial on the other side of the country. Of course, the good Generals had immediately thought of him. Even worse, Hammond had somehow learned about the old private Cessna 172 – bought with the inheritance from his parents – he'd used to fly his family from Winter Park, Colorado to his cabin in northern Minnesota and that had been parked on the local private airport of his pal Kyle, less than a twenty-minute drive in Twin Harbors!

For some reason he wasn't privy to his visit to Jackson had to happen _now_, despite the fact that he'd have to stop to refuel if he had to fly all the way to New York City, for crying out loud! He'd tried arguing he didn't want to fly that far with his plane, not to mention having to fly it back to Colorado or Minnesota – depending on how long this was going to take and how patient his family was – after checking on the guy. Of course, being the good little Boy Scout he'd no doubt been Hammond knew that Tyler had a private pilot certificate, was more than qualified to fly the Cessna back and was, at that time, also at the cabin. To think Jack had given the flying lessons as a gift to his son, who'd been obsessed with planes and flying, as a graduation gift to prevent him from following in his footsteps and joining the Air Force and go to college instead; he didn't want his son to have to go through the things he'd done and seen, that was exactly why _he_ was the one serving his country, so his son would be safe.

Now, here he was after a long flight looking for the apartment belonging to... Charles Dodgson! Despite the circumstances Jack smirked at the name, pleased that he'd been able to give the dead astronaut as well as the guy specialized in dead things and languages, such appropriate names. Although he thought it would have been even more appropriate not to make this man live in an apartment building on the fourth floor where the elevator apparently stopped working at times for no good reason! Sighing, he straightened up and knocked on the right door.

It took a few minutes and then he heard an unnatural footfall before the door swung open. "Hello Charles," he greeted the bespectacled man. Hm, if they'd given Sam fake glasses maybe they could have given him contacts or laser surgery to distinguish between him and his counterpart better… something to add to his report.

"Jack! What are you doing here?"

He frowned, immediately irritated by the familiar way the man said his name just as he'd been on the submarine. "Can I come in?"

"Okay," he said slowly, stepping aside to let him pass.

"Nice digs," Jack muttered, looking around the somewhat messy apartment. "A bit dark and a crappy elevator, but all that aside…"

The man slammed the door closed and limped – ah, the cane had caused the strange footfall – to the couch. "Yeah well, I've had better apartments too when I was still working for the Air Force."

"I'm not saying this is awful," he backtracked as he moved a stack of papers from a chair to the floor and sat down. "But it's not the nicest place either. Then again, they had to move you pretty quickly."

"They had more than five weeks," the archeologist replied dryly.

Jack shrugged and made a vague hand gesture. "Well, I don't know about your timeline but the house market can be tricky. And they had to confirm you weren't a threat and could live on your own under a new identity first before they went looking for a place."

"That's no excuse," he said petulantly with a small scowl. "I've done much better in _days_."

"Ah, you moved around a lot? I thought you had been stationed at that mountain for over a decade."

The man regarded him pensively as he absentmindedly rubbed his left leg – where the prosthetic was connected to the knee – and then gave an ironic smile. "Well, I did live on alien planet for over a year between the first two, well actually we later learned there had already been a first… so I guess that would be the second and third mission. But the first and second mission to Abydos, so I lived there in between and everyone on Earth thought I was dead, which later became kind of my thing if you'd ask the Jack I know and so my stuff had all been sold."

_Oh Christ, another rambling scientist_, Jack thought as he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply in an effort to control himself. "I see. The same Jack that had been your best friend, right?" He asked with a sarcastic grin, because he simply couldn't picture that.

"Nooo-"

"That's what you said on the submarine."

"No, I didn't," he argued with a scowl.

"Did too!"

"Actually, I said I was the closest thing _you_ had to a best friend," he said, emphasizing the word in what was no doubt his teaching voice.

Jack snorted in amusement, still not buying the whole thing. "Yeah, 'cause I'm sure you had loads of other best friends, what with your whole superior attitude despite being a discredited whack-job living on the fringes of society. Besides, I'm not that guy."

"Really, could have fooled me."

"Please, I'm not some suck-up, ass-kissing general, let alone a fucking three-star!" Apparently that was very funny because the guy dissolved in somewhat girly giggles, sounding slightly hysterical as he continued to shake in laughter. Or maybe he just _was_ a whack-job. "What did I say?"

"Nothing," 'Charles' managed to reply once he got a grip and tried to catch his breath. "It's just… Jack's not a suck- _Was_, I meant Jack wasn't… like that."

Suddenly the atmosphere felt slightly suffocating and even more depressing if that was possible with all the darkness in the apartment. "Look, I didn't come here to pick a fight with you… they just sent me to check up on you because your handlers were unavailable."

"Why you?"

"Because," Jack shrugged dismissively, but realized the guy was sharper than he'd expected. Of course, he'd also seen that during his interviews but that had been a while ago and he'd been more focused on the guy's friend. "Anyway, how's the leg holding up?"

"Fine, as long as the prosthetic is attached."

Gauging him for a moment, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Was that a joke?"

"Perhaps. A bad one," he replied after a beat.

"Yes, very bad. But I sense hope for you," he joked, trying to lighten the mood and win the guy's trust. After all, he'd been confusing him with his counterpart earlier so maybe he could even get something useful out of him. At least then this whole thing wouldn't be a gigantic waste of time.

"Do you, Jack?" The man asked, his blue eyes wide in sincerity behind his glasses.

_Oh crap_. "Look, if you say you and the other… me, were friend that's fine. Whatever you want. I'm just not, you know, that touchy-feely kinda guy who makes nice with everyone and gets a couple of stars in return."

"I know that," was the curt and bemused reply. "I know who you are, Jack. No matter what timeline or reality, or age or even what kind of race… I've seen more than enough of you and even if you are somewhat different and didn't lose your son – something that's quite amazing to hear for once – you're still the same person deep down."

"Okay, if you say so."

"Jaaack," he breathed out the name in exasperation and by the sounds of it, it wasn't the first time. "Look, I'm not Sam-"

"No kidding," he interjected.

"-and I'm no technological genius but I've seen a lot of… weird stuff over the years. I can't explain the physics behind it like Sam, but I get that we're in a different timeline here and from what happened at the extraction ceremony, with Vala disappearing and then Teal'c, followed by the Tok'ra and… well, that's not really important. Anyway, it seems like Ba'al somehow managed to reset time-"

"Oh for crying out loud," Jack sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Please!"

"Just hear me out, damn it!"

Surprised by the outburst – he looked so mild-mannered, despite the somewhat depressed and bitter air, or something hanging around him – Jack straightened on his chair. "Fine, but I'm warning you if you start-"

"As I was saying," the archeologist interrupted him before he picked up where he'd left off earlier. "So, Ba'al reset time in order to keep the Stargate from coming to the United States. From that moment on history unfolded in a way it wasn't supposed to, which led to this timeline where we unfortunately ended up. I don't think it's the same as what we'd call an alternate reality…" He must have seen the confusion on Jack's face because he made a dismissive wave with his hand. "You should ask Sam about that. Anyway, it was different because everyone just… I don't know, disappeared."

"Like beam me up, Scotty?"

"No," he cast an irritated glance in his direction and pulled off his glasses to rub his eyes. "That's more beaming technology. This was like…"

"Poof?"

"No, that reminds me of that phase-shift technology from the Tollans."

Jack had no idea what the man was talking about but he figured it could be important because he'd already heard things like beaming and out-of-phase. Whatever the latter was, he wasn't really into science fiction, although he'd catch the occasional rerun of _The Day the Earth Stood Still_. "Then what?"

"I don't know… kind of like they, maybe shimmered?"

"They shimmered?"

"Yes, Jack, they shimmered and then they were gone!"

"I see. Very interesting," he couldn't help but grin.

The guy was rubbing his leg again and his glasses were still dangling dangerously from one hand when he turned intense blue eyes on him. "They wouldn't have sent you without reason. If anything, I would have thought they'd send you to Sam…"

"Why would they do that?" Jack frowned, frustrated that he couldn't follow the man's logic.

"Well, you know," he shrugged, seemingly backtracking a bit. "Because they'd think she's more dangerous."

Of course she was, but why would he think that? "You really think so?"

"Please, at the moment the crazy cat lady from the apartment next to the stairs is more dangerous than I am," 'Charles' replied in a frustrated huff as he gestured at his leg – or what was left of it.

"It could have been worse, you know," Jack tried to reassure him, jerking his head towards the prosthetic. "In the conditions you or your friends were found you could have been easily dead."

He simply sighed, shaking his head slowly. "Trust me, that's not worse."

"Look… Oh crap, I'm no good at this. But you know you can talk to MacKenzie, right?"

"A shrink? Jack O'Neill is referring me to a shrink?"

Jack smiled sheepishly and shrugged helplessly. He definitely wasn't fond of shrinks but then he'd never lost a leg. Or traveled through wormholes or ended up in alternate timelines. "Look, I should probably get going…" He had another flight to catch, to Kansas to check on the flyboy. Then, he could fly back to Washington State…

"Tell me something…"

"What?" He replied cautiously, not liking the man's tone.

"Just be honest with me, Jack. For once. It's not like I would tell anyone."

Waiting a beat, he raised his brows and impatiently tapped his foot. "I'm waiting. Ask me what?"

"Sam. Have you been in contact with her?"

Jack felt a small smile tug on his lips, but he quickly pressed it down. So there _had_ been something more about his earlier remark about her. "Why? Let me guess, _she_ is your 'best friend', huh?"

"What? N-no, why… what? Why would you think that?" The man stammered, his face flushing.

_Yeah right_. "Oh, I don't know," he grinned, even though he didn't think it was a good development. Not at all, really. Not for his assignment! Or maybe… maybe it would be just the thing to get him reassigned and the Air Force and the NID to give up on it! Still, he couldn't really picture the two blue-eyed… science geeks together. Although he had to admit that Samantha Carter probably wasn't _that_ geeky and this guy… well, let's just say he wasn't as geeky as his counterpart.

"We're just friends. We've known each other for a long time. I just want to know she's doing okay."

"She's fine," Jack replied after contemplating the question for a moment. What harm could it do? Besides, something told him the guy already knew this. His question hadn't really sounded that urgent, the build-up had but if he'd been so concerned why hadn't he asked in the beginning? Hmm. Another thing to put in his report. "Aren't you going to ask about the flyboy? You know, your other friend."

"Mitchell?" He frowned for a moment. "I didn't think you'd be in contact with him. I'm sure he's doing fine, right?"

Definitely more concerned about Sam than the other guy, huh. "I don't know, I heard he settled in nicely and I'm on my way to see him now."

"Okay, I'll walk you to the door. Could you… could you tell Sam I-"

"That you asked about her? Yeah sure you bet'cha," he smirked as the guy flushed again.

"And Mitchell too!"

"Sure," Jack bobbed his head as he walked to the door. There were quite a few locks on the door, more than he would have expected in a neighborhood and apartment building like this! "You know, you shouldn't leave your keys in the lock. If someone wants to break in they can knock them out from the other side and then either pry the lock open or maybe even get the keys from underneath the door." He couldn't help but sympathize with the guy. After everything he and his friends had apparently gone through in their timeline he'd lost his leg by stepping into a puddle of water in the Arctic… how anti-climactic. "Cute key chain," he murmured, fingering the Roswell alien-shaped head. "Did you ever meet those guys?"

"Um yes, yes we did," he replied nervously. "They're actually very nice and advanced. Anyway, you have a flight to catch and I'm kind of tired, so…"

"Whoops," Jack muttered as he pulled the head from the alien's little body. Before he could fix it though the guy pulled it from his hands. "Hey, is that a flash drive?"

"Yes," the archeologist replied slowly. "I, er, got it… At the bookstore, when I bought my book. Uh, my counterpart's book. I couldn't help myself and my handler didn't seem to mind."

"Okay, whatever." The guy was definitely a bit on the wacko-side, Jack decided. "Well, see ya."


	9. Day TwentyTwo of a New Life

******A/N: ** I would have updated sooner, but I couldn't sign in to my account due to the connection timing out whenever I tried... Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Day 22<br>Liddell Residence  
>Rainier, Washington<strong>

Sam bit back a groan as she straightened up, the muscles in her legs protesting after she'd been sitting on her haunches while scrubbing the lower body of her car. She'd only had the car for two weeks now but it had rained the other day and tree sap, bird feces and dirt had also accumulated on it. The Prius definitely wasn't one of her Volvos but it was still her car and she always took good care of her vehicles. Now that she had finished most of her research at the library for the moment, didn't have a job or her bikes to tinker with, she had gotten bored and washing her car always relaxed her. Plus it allowed her to think and still do something useful – she'd already cleaned the entire house yesterday.

The fact that she could do this on her driveway, with the large tree at the end of the lawn casting most of it in a shadow, and out of the house where she knew she was being watched was an added bonus. She also hadn't failed to notice that for the third day in a row the surveillance van at the end of her street was gone. Instead there was an unmarked sedan in its place, so she assumed they'd probably gotten tired of watching and listening to the live feed and were simply recording. Perhaps they were tiring of her mundane behavior these past three weeks?

After throwing the dirty sponge she'd been using in the bucket with water, she stretched her lithe frame slowly and eased the kinks out of her back by massaging the tense muscles with her hands. Her jeans as well as her simple gray top had already gotten wet so she didn't even bother drying her hands and simply used the back of her hand to brush the beads of sweat from her forehead. Looking around she spotted her bottled water on the other side of the car and walked over to reach for it, taking big gulps to ease her thirst. She pulled off her aviator-style sunglasses and let them dangle from her neckline so she could rub her eyes too, careful not to wipe any suds in them.

A glance at her watch told her it was still early in the morning but it was already getting hot outside. Perhaps jeans were a bit too warm for the beating sun in combination with the workout she was getting from washing her car, but she felt uncomfortable wearing cutoffs – those were reserved for days at the cabin or in the privacy of her backyard – and a skirt was simply a bad idea if you were going to spend any time on your haunches. At days like these though, she missed her short crop and even though she wore her hair in a low side ponytail her neck still felt overheated. When she'd been digging around in her closet after getting up this morning to find something suitable to wear – after all, most of her clothes were new and there was no reason to ruin them – she'd come across one of the black BDU patrol caps the OSI agents had placed in the bag with clothes they'd given her. It was familiar because she'd often worn one in whatever color or print when she'd been on SG-1 and exploring different planets, so she'd put it on backwards to disguise her similarity to the dead mission commander somewhat.

Feeling eyes on her Sam turned sharply around, frowning at the staring Riker boy who was supposed to be mowing her lawn. "Is something wrong, Tommy?"

"Ah, no, Ma'am," he stammered, looking abashed. "I mean… er, Miss Liddell."

A smile tugged at her lips at the familiar title and she shook her head fondly at him, before placing her bottle back on the driveway and going for the bucket with her sponge so she could scrub this side of the car. "Tommy? I thought I'd told you to call me Alice."

"Right, yeah… sorry Miss Li-I mean, Alice," he grinned self-consciously as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I was just, er… taking a break and eh, admiring the view."

Confused, Sam scrunched up her nose as she regarded him. When he just smiled sheepishly she shrugged and reached into the bucket for the sponge. "I'm more of a Volvo fan myself," she admitted, casting a glance at him over her shoulder. "But I guess it's a nice enough car."

"Eh, my Dad… he said it was new?" Tommy asked shyly as he slowly bridged the distance between them and came to stand next to her.

She looked at him as she lowered herself on her haunches and started scrubbing the dirt from the car. "Yeah, but I didn't really have a say in it," she mumbled. The boy just kept standing next to her so she gestured towards the house. "If you want something to drink there's some stuff in the fridge."

"Nah, I'm good," he said with a smile. "So, was this car, eh, part of your inheritance?"

Sam recalled the story she'd told his father Jim and some of the other town's people. It was part of her new identity to explain how she came to be here without the house being for sale and hardly ever anyone living there; obviously it had belonged to the OSI – or the NID, she wasn't sure – for quite a while now. According to the cover story the house had belonged to her great aunt Mary, who'd lived a somewhat reclusive life and not many folks in town had really known her, simply referring to her as the old lady in the big house. The few people who'd been spotted in the house after her passing supposedly were friends and relatives of Alice's distant cousin, George, who'd taken care of the house after Mary had died. George had died a few months ago and Alice had been his only living relative, so she'd inherited the house and apparently also the car. In reality though the house had probably been bought by the NID or the OSI after Mary passed away and used to house witnesses temporarily.

"Um, yeah." Uncomfortable with him hovering next to her, she reached for the sunglasses still hanging on her neckline and put them on. "I'll bet if you hurry you can finish up mowing the lawn before… ten thirty," Sam nearly misspoke, so used to so-called military time and now she was forced to use the 12-hour clock notation because Alice wasn't military. "That way you can catch Carl before he sends off the cookie deliveries," she suggested, hoping that prospect would get him moving without her having to be rude. Jim had accompanied Tommy this morning because it was his first time and he was using his father's lawnmower – although she'd gotten the impression Jim just wanted to chitchat with her – and they'd told her that Carl from the local cookie company had mentioned he could use a hand if the boy could be there before eleven today.

"Right! So I should…"

She nodded when he pointed a thumb over his shoulder and waited for him to go back to the lawnmower to let out a deep sigh – letting the machine's noise cover it. Luckily for her it would take a few weeks until the lawn needed mowing again after today… It wasn't the teenager's fault really, she just didn't like having strangers around her house. Shaking herself, Sam focused on washing her Prius, slowly moving alongside the car's length and scrubbing at all the dirt. She'd never noticed either of her Volvos – both also silver – getting dirty this fast, but then she'd only use her car a few times a week to drive to and from the mountain and this last year she'd been stuck on Atlantis with only puddle jumpers or a Stargate for transportation. This car was being used daily and there was quite some dirt and sand on the route to Olympia.

Up until now she hadn't realized how much she'd missed her precious vehicles, not because of the driving – although she thoroughly enjoyed riding her bikes – but the tinkering and simple things like washing a car. She loved working with her hands, be that with weapons, explosives, alien doohickeys, mundane household appliances or cars and bikes. It was one of the reasons she'd enjoyed making the cantenna and EMF finder. She'd even contemplated making a jamming device to prevent anyone using beaming technology in her house or perhaps carry it on her person, just to keep herself busy and entertained as well as safe.

With anyone she meant Ba'al of course, because Sam had no doubt that in time he _would_ show up to take his revenge on the Tau'ri, even if they hadn't done anything to him in this timeline. Earth had to be somewhat of a paradise for any Goa'uld, with a population in the billions compared to the thousands on most planets they'd encountered over the years… Anyway, in the end she'd decided against making it because Ba'al thought could still easily find her by searching the planet for naquadah, something he was bound to do just to locate the Stargate in case it _was_ in use and block any attempts of escape. A jamming device wasn't going to protect her house from getting blasted from a ha'tak in orbit either. Plus it would be an unnecessary risk for her to take, because if the NID or Colonel O'Neill found out about it…

The only other race that would be using the beaming technology would be the ones who'd created it and at this moment she wasn't holding out any hope for the Asgard. After all, they hadn't ever concerned themselves with Earth – with the exception of abductions of and experimentations with humans to find a solution for their cloning problem – until SG-1 had made contact with Thor. She also thought it was highly unlikely they would be aware of the changes in the timeline to risk changing their policy and come take a look-see. That was, of course, assuming the Asgard here had found their own solution against the Replicators without Earth and its 'projectile weapons', the Replicator's creator Reese, or Jack O'Neill sticking his head into an Ancient Repository and creating a disruptor to get rid of the mechanical bugs. She doubted they would have resorted to the Dakara Weapon if they even knew about its existence and were willing to face Goa'uld – and risk their treaties with them – and Jaffa to get to it. Then again, even if they had overcome their Replicator plague there was still the cloning problem and for all she knew they'd already blown themselves up, like they had in her timeline after handing over their legacy to SG-1.

Sam let out a deep sigh and tried to focus on happier thoughts because the demise of the Asgard was downright depressing. She wondered if there would be any mail from Daniel or Cam in Therra's PO Box at the Olympian post office for her when she was going to check it later this week and allowed herself a small smile at the prospect. It had been a few days now since Melinda, her secretary, had sent the flash drives to the addresses Sam had provided her with. It had been relatively easy to get their exact locations from the data she'd retrieved after searching for their subcutaneous transmitters. At the library she'd already known the coordinates she'd found were for New York City and Delphos, Kansas. After that it had been simple enough to find out the names of the owners of the addresses, although admittedly Daniel's had given her a bit of a challenge with him living in an apartment building with a dozen other people; Cam was living in a nice house in Kansas, but for some reason the OSI had found it necessary to give Daniel, the one out of the three of them with an amputated leg an apartment, for crying out loud! Anyway, once she'd gone over the list with residents the name Charles Dodgson had jumped out at her. Knowing it had been Colonel O'Neill who'd given her the Alice in Wonderland-related name, it wasn't hard to figure out he'd named Daniel after its writer!

Just as she rounded the car to scrub the underside of the back, wondering if the boys had already deciphered her message and sent her a reply, a shadow fell over her. Annoyed with yet another interruption – first Jim this morning, then John from the local hotdog joint and just now Tommy – Sam glared over her shoulder and slowly stood, stretching her aching legs.

"Hey Alice!"

It was Tim, from the local auto repair shop who'd fixed her car after she'd futzed with it about two weeks ago. "Oh, hello Tim," she gave him a small smile. "Is there something I can help you with? I hope there wasn't anything wrong with my payment-"

"No, no, everything was fine," he grinned widely. "I just dropped by because Craig told me you were washing your car." He must have seen her confusion, because he quickly explained. "Craig, from the archery? Anyway, Christy from the daycare center told him at the bakery that Belle from across the street had seen you wash your car and I thought I'd drop by and give you a carwash gift basket!"

"Oh wow, news sure travels fast around here…" Sam pulled off her glasses again, hanging them on her top and smiled at him. She suddenly felt ashamed that she'd been annoyed with his visit interrupting her musings; after all, he was only being friendly. "You really didn't have to go through all this trouble. Besides, I wouldn't feel good about not paying for it…"

He waved her argument away and held out the bucket with all the items. "Here, take it. I usually give one to new customers but I was out of them the day your car needed fixing, so…"

"Okay, well, thanks," she awkwardly accepted the gift with one hand, the other still holding her sponge.

"I see you don't have a wheel-brush," Tim continued, gesturing at the items on the driveway. "You do now! They come in handy for cleaning the openings of the wheels."

Sam nodded, but decided against telling him she knew all about cars because she didn't want to hurt his feelings – or ruin her cover because then he'd know she could've easily fixed her car by herself. "This is really great, thanks again."

"I would have come by sooner so you could have had more use from them but I had to wait for my coffee break."

"Oh, don't apologize," she replied quickly. "I'll just put this in the garage, okay?" Without waiting for a reply Sam turned around and headed into the double garage. There was an empty shelf on one wall, so she placed the bucket there and headed back out. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw Tim talking to a familiar backside. Swallowing hard, she slowly made her way over to them.

"… Colonel Jack O'Neill," she overheard the silver-haired man say as he shook Tim's hand. "Oh, I'm a very good friend of Alice." He was? She huffed at the man's arrogance and took the last few steps to come up to their side. "And you are?"

"Tim's the owner of the auto repair shop," Sam replied quickly with a jerk of her head in the shop's general direction. She glared at O'Neill when both men nearly jumped at the sound of her voice and found her standing next to them. He looked surprised, as if he hadn't expected her to be able to sneak up on him. Her mouth turned dry though when she took in his features; he looked weary and tired, but with the sunglasses hiding his eyes and eyebrows – the unscarred ones – he looked just like her Jack and sounded like him too! So far it had been relatively easy to distinguish between them because this O'Neill had a different look in his eyes when he was watching her and his face and overall physique was slightly leaner. Her Jack had been hit in the face so many times he'd had scar in his left eyebrow for the last nine years or so and since he'd been transferred to Washington DC to fly a desk, he'd gained some weight too.

"Oh, you must be a busy man then," O'Neill said, which Sam easily translated into 'get lost'. "I'll grab the hose while you finish scrubbing the rear end of the car, Alice," he continued, walking up her driveway. Simply ignoring Tim, as if he was one of his men and had been dismissed with the Colonel's words.

She automatically turned back to the car before realizing he'd just given her an order and, worse, she'd been about to follow it! "I really appreciate the gift, Tim," she gave the man her brightest smile and made him blush in return. "But I really should finish the car before the droplets dry and leave water spots on the paint job, you know."

"You obviously know what you're doing," Tim said with a grin, nodding at her. "Well, I'll better go; I don't want to leave any customers waiting… and I'm pretty sure I was just dismissed by your friend."

"Don't mind him," she grinned, rolling her eyes as if O'Neill, who was heading their way with said hose, was irrelevant.

The man in question stopped just short of them, frowning at the un-scrubbed area of the car's rear. "Why aren't you done yet?"

Sam was about to tell him off when the lawnmower behind her was turned off and she heard Tommy walking up to them. "All done, Tommy?"

"Yeah, it was a piece of cake, Alice. You were right, I, er…" he glanced uncertainly at the Colonel, who was glaring at the boy. "… finished in time."

"Let me get my wallet from inside," she mumbled after patting down her jeans pockets, realizing there was nothing in there and pointedly ignoring O'Neill.

"I see you've got Tommy doing some chores for you too," Tim grinned, patting the teenager on the back as he winked at Sam.

The boy nodded with a grin, before turning to her. "I really have to get going now if I want to be at the bakery in time… Hey Alice, maybe you could give my Dad the money when he comes by tonight?"

"Eh, okay, sure," Sam replied, recalling how his father, Jim, had mentioned picking up the lawnmower tonight after dinner when he was going to walk their dog.

"And I can give you a ride if you want, Tommy. I have to go back to work anyway," Tim offered. "See you around, Alice!"

"Yeah, bye Alice," Tommy added with a small wave.

* * *

><p>Jack watched them go with a scowl on his face, waiting for the car to drive down the street before he turned back to Sam. "You scrub that, I'll start hosing the rest down," he muttered, throwing a glare at her before he walked to the other side.<p>

"I'm not done yet," she replied.

"It'll take five seconds!"

Her blue eyes were blazing at him as she stood there, hands on her hips and scowling in his direction. "I haven't done the wheels and tires yet," she petulantly stated.

_Crap!_ It looked like he'd gotten here just in time because there was a good chance she'd find the tracking device hidden in the back passenger wheel well if she was going to clean the tires! "Fine, I'll do it," he said gruffly. It didn't take him much effort to sounds abrasive because he really was annoyed. Not just with her or her legion of male fans, but he was still pissed at Hammond and Kennedy for ordering him to leave his family and fly across the country to visit her two friends. That Jackson guy, the one with the prosthetic leg had given him a bit more insight into the man's relationship with Sam but otherwise the visit hadn't given him much information, although he was going to pass on the races and technology he'd mentioned if the OSI hadn't already recorded it. He had no idea if the guy's apartment was bugged because he'd gotten the dead astronaut as his charge, not her teammates.

At the airport, where he'd been waiting for his flight to Kansas he'd called Sara and explained that he wasn't going to make it back and that it would probably be another few weeks before he could get some time to visit again. Tyler hadn't been back yet, which was understandable since he'd had to refuel and the Cessna simply didn't go as fast and far as commercial airplanes. After the phone call to his wife though he'd walked around the airport and remembering what the archeologist had told him, he'd suddenly found himself in the bookstore with the book Jackson's counterpart had written. The young woman at the register had given him an almost sympathizing look, as if he was crazy for even buying the book, but he'd shrugged it off with a smile and had read the book on the plane.

The visit with Mitchell hadn't been very productive. Apparently you could take the flyboy out of the Air Force but not the Air Force out of the flyboy. Most of the man's answers had been "Yes Sir" or "No Sir", but at least he was "doing fine, Sir" and it appeared he'd even found himself a new girlfriend, or at least he'd been heavily flirting with the woman next door when Jack had arrived. From the three of them it was clearly Mitchell who was settling nicely into this life. Other than that Jack hadn't really learned anything from the impromptu visit.

Anyway, afterwards he'd gone back to the airport for his flight back to Washington State, had barely gotten some sleep and then yesterday he'd worked on his backlogged reports and some other paperwork that had mysteriously accumulated during his absence. Today, he was back in Rainier, visiting his charge and he was exhausted and irritable. Jack had been standing on the other side of the road for a few minutes before coming over, watching as Sam had been washing the car and when he'd wanted to make his way over the boy had started talking to her. So he'd waited, had even briefly contemplated sneaking back into his car to relax and close his eyes for a few minutes, but he hadn't. Only minutes after the boy had gone back to his job another car had come up and surprisingly Sam hadn't heard a thing – probably because of the obnoxious lawnmower – and that other guy, Tim whatshisname had started chatting her up.

Jack had decided enough was enough and had gone over there while she went into her garage. He'd just introduced himself as a good friend of Alice when Sam had snuck up on them. Jeez, he'd nearly jumped a mile in surprise. He couldn't believe she'd already managed to do so twice! Obviously he was losing his touch. Or maybe she was that good? After all, his counterpart had trained her… either way, he definitely had to pay more attention. Clearly, his exhaustion was not serving him well.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he looked at her before looking around at the driveway. "Don't you have a brush or something? Then I can do the tires while you hose the car down."

"Eh," she seemed catch herself, her posture relaxing as she let her arms hang loosely at her sides. Jack couldn't help but grin at the wet and soapy stain the sponge in her hand had made on her hip. "There's one in the package Tim just gave me."

"Oh for crying out loud," Jack whined, stepping up to her and snatching the sponge from her. "Never mind, this will do. Here, hose down the car."

Instead of taking the hose he was holding out to her, she just glared at him, not moving a muscle. "If you don't mind, I'd really prefer you not touch my car. I don't want any scratches or other damage on it," she added when he threw her an incredulous look.

"I think I know how to clean a car," he replied in an exasperated tone. "Or are you afraid I'm gonna key it when you turn around?" He asked dryly as he sat down on his haunches in front of the back passenger wheel, hoping to obscure her vision so she wouldn't notice the tracking device hidden in its well.

"Well, I wouldn't really know because I don't know you, now do I? Despite us being very good friends, of course," she added sarcastically.

Oh, she'd overhead that? Jack shrugged and started cleaning the car. "Just hose down the car, _Alice_."

"No."

"What?" His head jerked in her direction, wondering why she was acting so strangely. "Why the hell not?"

Crossing her arms she looked down at him. "Because I'm not one of your men, Colonel and I don't take orders from you."

"Oh, for… Look, Alice, would you _please_ go hose down the rest of the car while I clean these wheels? Pretty please?" Jack asked in a girly voice, batting his lashes at her. When she finally moved, reluctantly it seemed, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "You've got some serious control issues, woman," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Sam asked from the other side of the car.

Of course she'd heard _that_ too… "Nothing dear," he said as pleasantly as possible, straining his neck to look at her over the top of the car. "Hey!" He yelped when he was hit on the chest by the water from her hose and jumped up, evading the water as she aimed higher to try and hit him over the car. "Christ, now my shirt is wet!"

"You were saying, Colonel?"

Jack stalked around the car, throwing the sponge somewhere on the driveway. "I was saying," he said in a menacing tone before he snatched the hose from her despite her best efforts, "that you have control issues," he added, spraying the water on her shirt.

Sam darted away, shrieking as the cold water hit her back and ran to the end of the driveway, hiding behind the car. "Says who?" She asked, sounding slightly out of breath.

"I do," he smirked, aiming over the car in the hopes of hitting her. "Really, it's a wonder you made it through the military," he added.

"Really?" She countered, skeptically raising one eyebrow. "Or are you just jealous, O'Neill? After all, you're sixteen years my senior and you've been a full bird for… how long exactly, now?"

Well, she certainly didn't pull any punches! Not that Jack _wanted_ a promotion to brigadier general – he enjoyed sticking it to 'The Man' far too much – but he hadn't failed to notice their age difference and yet equal rank. "We can't all be suck-ups," he shrugged before quickly rounding the car and hitting her with the water. He laughed when she yelped and ran back up to the garage, losing her cap when the spray knocked it off her head. She stood there dripping with water and looking at him warily; probably afraid he'd turn on her again so Jack ignored her and used the spray nozzle to clean the rest of the car. When he was done he shut off the water with the hose's lever and put it down on the floor, reaching for the squeegee to get rid of the excess water on the car. He'd decided against cleaning the other wheel wells – the car was as good as new, after all – and proceeded drying the car with the leather chamois that was lying near her water bottle.

Once he was finished, he emptied the bucket with the dirty water at the end of the driveway and threw in the various cleaning items. Realizing Sam had moved from her spot he looked around, wondering where she'd gone when he spotted the wet footprints leading into the garage. No wonder he hadn't heard her approach earlier! By the time he walked into the garage with the hose wrapped loosely around his left arm and the bucket with items, including her water bottle and black cap, in his right hand, she came out of the utility room. "I rinsed and dried it but you'll have to do the windows yourself, Sam," he muttered, hoping she'd take the peace offer. After all, it _had_ been kind of fun, hadn't it? He'd certainly enjoyed chasing her with the hose…

"I turned off the water to the hose," she replied after a moment, gesturing at the utility room. "I'll just do the windows…"

Not knowing where to put the various items he was holding, Jack placed the bucket with its content on the shelf next to the package the other guy had given her, while she walked back to the car with a soaked rag she probably intended to use for the windows. He took the water bottle and cap out of the bucket though, and he placed the bottle on the shelf so it would be in full view if she was looking for it and twirled the wet cap in his hands. It was one of those patrol caps that was part of the black battle dress uniforms and he briefly wondered where she got it from and why she chose to wear it. Obviously the cap was to hide her features but wearing it backwards meant it only covered her blonde locks and while it was a good look on her, he figured it probably had some sentimental value, just like the olive drab cap she'd been wearing a few weeks ago – he got it; he had his own lucky cap too. It was understandable, seeing how they were the only items with a connection to the Air Force or former life she could afford to have on her as Alice.

He took off his sunglasses and wiped the few water droplets on them with his black short-sleeved shirt before he put them back on and walked to the garage door, watching Sam as she finished up cleaning the windows of her car. He realized, as he fidgeted with her cap, that he was definitely better off than her; he'd gotten some water on his stonewashed jeans and the front of his shirt was wet but it would dry quickly enough in the summer sun and his shoes had escaped any water damage. Sam had been smart enough to forego shoes but her jeans and gray top had already been wet from washing the car by the time he got here.

Her flared jeans had turned darker and her top had been clinging to her body – no doubt the reason all the male neighbors seemed to keep an eye on her – but now, after his attack her clothes were soaked through and she left a water trail behind her on the driveway. Realizing she was almost done, Jack picked up one of the dry rags and made his way over to her. When he came closer his eyes did an appreciative onceover, taking in the way her outfit was molding to her body and he had to admit she was definitely fit… "Ah, here," he cleared his throat and when she turned around, he handed her the dry rag and gestured towards the windows.

"I'll just wait inside," he added, not waiting for a reply and turning back towards the house. She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'smug bastard', making him chuckle as he went inside without an actual invitation. A quick check in the utility room next to the entrance found him a clean towel and he quickly dried off his face and dabbed at the wet spots on his clothes. When he entered the kitchen he looked into the fridge, got himself something to drink and checked out the papers on the kitchen counter. There were a few papers with circled ads and some printed out job application forms as well. It seemed like she was looking into augmenting her income with a job. Of course that wasn't a big surprise after learning what a workaholic she was but Jack also realized that if she got a job that meant he couldn't simply drop by anymore. She'd be out working more often and he'd have to adjust his plans…

"Colonel O'Neill?" Sam's voice rang out from the entry hall.

"I'm in the kitchen," he replied after taking a swig of water. Sticking his head out he tried to look into the entry hall but it was an impossible angle so he browsed through the papers, smirking when he also found _a lot_ of filled out crossword puzzles.

By the sounds of wet fabric and wet feet padding on wood he figured Sam was walking into the house, when she called out again. "I'll be right there… just going to change."

Well, at least she felt comfortable enough to let him in her house unsupervised, he thought to himself. Not that he'd given her much choice… His eyes fell on the jobs she'd marked and he tried to recall the list of off-limit areas to see if she'd actually been paying attention to that. Most of the jobs were menial or mediocre at best, which wasn't a shocker considering they were local and this was a small town but he just couldn't picture Sam Carter doing any of them. "Hey, are you serious about these?" he asked when she, wearing a summer dress, joined him in the kitchen.

"Trust me, they're not my dream jobs either, but I've got to do something before I go crazy," she replied dryly.

"Oh believe me," he grinned, looking at her, "I'm surprised you lasted this long."

She shrugged and made a vague, all-encompassing hand gesture. "I had enough things to keep me busy. But once I've taken out the walk-in closet in my bedroom and turned this counter into an island…"

"Stir crazy, huh? Well, you should probably check with your handlers but I'm pretty sure a lot of these won't be approved," Jack said, trying to be gentle because he knew she'd be disappointed.

"I know…"

Glancing at the selection again, he sighed. "Maybe you could find something to do from home, to minimize exposure. I mean, working in a store is off-limits because it's too public and you'd come into contact with too many people who might recognize you."

"Well, I can't say I'm sorry to hear I won't be applying to Walmart anytime soon. But these days everyone wants to work from home and without proper qualification or at least experience, it's going to be very difficult for me to find something in the areas I am allowed to work in," she complained softly as she started to make coffee.

"Maybe you could tutor some kids before they go back to school, help them catch up," Jack suggested, tapping one of the non-circled ads.

Sam looked at him skeptically and let out a long-suffering sigh. "The only things I'm good at is math, science, biology, chemistry, computer science… they're all on the list."

"I highly doubt they'd let you work in a bike shop or as a mechanic," he added, looking at one of the prints outs.

"Oh come on, why not? I'm good with my hands," she muttered, scowling at the papers.

Jack snorted involuntarily and took a quick step back when she glared at him. "Hey, don't tell me you don't know what kind of materials mechanics can get access to. The OSI would probably suspect you're trying to make a bomb or something."

"They've been watching too much _MacGyver_," Sam huffed.

"Racing?"

She grinned softly and her eyes lit up. "I'm an adrenaline junkie with a need for speed."

"Ah, spoken like a true flygirl," Jack teased, returning her grin. "Volunteer firefighter? No way, there's too high a risk you'll be caught on camera saving someone's dog from a burning building or something."

"But I'd be wearing a mask," she whined. "I'd probably be very good at it too."

"I'm sure you would but it's not going to happen."

Sam glared at him again before turning her back on him, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "I don't know why I even bother; it's not like they'll approve anything unless I apply for the mission commander's job."

He followed her into the living room and plopped down on one of the chairs, placing his bottle of water on the coffee table. "That offer is still on the table…"

"Yeah, don't I know it," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "I'd probably be better off in a convent."

"Nah, I heard that's all the rage these days, you'd never find an opening," Jack quipped, smirking at her.

"Yeah," Sam murmured. "Look, maybe you should just go. I still don't get why could keep coming around here. You could easily have the NID or the OSI keep an eye on me, there's no need for you to be here personally," she said with a steely look in her eyes, making a dismissive wave with her hand. "I'm sure you have a family to go back to."

"Oh, I tried convincing my superior of that but you know as well as I do that orders are orders, Sam," Jack replied. He was about to congratulate himself for ignoring her remark about his family when she spoke up again.

"How is your son, anyway?" She must have seen his surprise because she shrugged noncommittally and explained. "You mentioned him aboard _Alexandria_. He must be old enough to go to college now?"

Realizing there was no harm in telling her that since she already knew about his existence through his own stupidity – although he'd been caught off guard back then and had just wanted to prove them wrong – he replied. "He's fine and enjoying the summer vacation at home because he didn't want to stay on campus." She nodded slowly with an almost sad look in her eyes and opened her mouth again, no doubt to ask more questions but he held up his hand to forestall a response. "Look, that's all you're gonna get, my personal life is off-limits, okay?"

Sam, apparently recognizing the truth in his words gave a nod of acceptance before glancing at him pensively. "I'm sorry about Daniel's comment aboard the submarine-"

"It's fine," he waved it off. "I've already forgotten about it. Don't worry about it."

"Okay," she said slowly, seemingly accepting the change in subject. Gnawing her lip in thought, she looked at him shyly after a moment. "Speaking of Daniel… do you know how he is? And Cameron?"

Jack sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. "Sam, you know that _even if_ I knew that I could never tell you."

"I know," she whispered in a sad tone, her eyes downcast. "I didn't really expect you to say anything else, but I just had to ask, you know? I just want to know they're doing all right… I mean, Daniel's gone through a lot already but now he's lost his leg too!"

"He's important to you," he stated more than asked, already having suspected as much after his visit with the archeologist.

Sam smiled softly, a distant look in her eyes as she glance into the living room. "They both are. We've been teammates for years and have gone through a lot together. Daniel and I have known each other from the beginning of the Program. Even after my reassignment we stayed in touch…" It seemed like she'd wanted to say something more but she trailed off, probably reminding herself not to give too much away! "I'm not asking for classified information, I just want to know they're dealing with their new lives. Maybe…"

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe one day, once you all know we're following the rules, I could see them?" She asked in a hopeful tone.

Jack knew that realistically she had to suspect that would never happen, not even years from now, but he didn't have it in him to crush her hopes right now. Not with all the progress they'd made today. "I'll see what I can do," he grumbled reluctantly, but winning himself a small smile from her. "Look, I'm gonna go and maybe next time I can help you with that closet, eh?"


	10. Day Twenty Five of a New Life

**Day 25  
>0906 hours<br>Medical Center  
>New York City, New York<strong>

For the umpteenth time since arriving Daniel looked in the direction of the receptionist, waiting until she felt his eyes on her and looked up before he made a show of watching the clock and letting out a deep sigh. The young woman sent him another apologetic look and shrugged, as if to tell him she was unsure what was taking so long as well. His appointment with Doctor MacKenzie was at nine am but apparently the man was already running late before he'd even seen his first patient! Not that Daniel really minded, he'd rather not even be here and if this meant he couldn't stay the full sixty minutes for his session then he was glad.

One of the conditions of his non-disclosure agreement was regular meetings with the good doctor. The OSI had made it sound like it was for his own benefit, as if Daniel should be grateful to have MacKenzie nearby because that way he could also talk about how he was dealing with losing his limb during his medical checkups, since the man was a psychiatrist as well. Fifteen years ago he may have bought that, back when he'd been a bit more naïve but after everything he's gone through since stepping through the 'gate for the first time, Daniel had lost some of his innocence. From Jack he'd learned more about military strategies than he'd ever wanted to know and in dealing with Kinsey, the NID and the Trust he'd experienced how the darker half of their government worked as well. Not to mention all the things he'd lived through with SG-1. All that told him the government in this timeline merely wanted to control and use him via the OSI and apparently MacKenzie too.

At least he was aware of their intentions, Daniel thought with a small frown. Aware and prepared, especially after Sam's message. The corners of his mouth threatened to curl up at the prospect of seeing her again, but he managed to hold the smile back and instead scowled at the door leading to MacKenzie's office at the end of the corridor. From the corner of his eye he saw the receptionist throwing him a worried glance, making him rub his left knee in an exaggerated manner and before he even had time to look at her with pained eyes, she cleared her throat.

"Mister Dodgson?" She came closer, suddenly appearing in his field of vision. "Mister Dodgson? I'm just going to check on the doctor to see what's taking so long, okay?"

Daniel grimaced and nodded his head. "Thank you," he replied politely. As soon as she turned around he reached for his crutches – he was still getting used to his prosthetic limb and used a cane at home for a few feet, but otherwise he needed crutches – and once she turned the corner he got up. Angling his head just right he checked to see if she was really going down the corridor and then, hearing her fading footsteps in confirmation, he quickly made his way over to the reception. Daniel's eyes went over the desk to the out tray he'd spotted a few visits ago and before he could change his mind, he pulled the envelope with his reply to Sam from his pocket and stuffed it between the rest of the mail heading towards the post office. In her message Sam had cautioned him about finding a way to mail his answering letter – in Ancient – that couldn't be traced back to him and this was the first thing that came to mind. As he made his way back to the uncomfortable chair in the waiting room, Daniel realized that Jack would have been proud of their cloak and dagger act if he'd been here…

He was just stretching out his good leg when the receptionist returned with a warm smile. "Mister Dodgson? If you would follow me, the Doctor can see you now."

"Great," he muttered and got up, internally rolling his eyes at his alias. After this timeline's Jack O'Neill had dropped by and Daniel had figured out that the man was involved, he'd started to suspect that maybe he was behind the ridiculous name. He hadn't really allowed himself to think too much about the counterpart of one of his best friends but now he realized that the OSI, or whoever was pulling the strings, had made sure the Colonel was assigned to their case as well. Knowing the man's specialty there was no doubt in Daniel's mind they had somehow reassigned him from the Arctic to Sam, since she was the most dangerous and the Air Force officer hadn't exactly denied it either.

Then there was Sam's message, in which she'd briefly and obscurely hinted at how she found him through the one piece of technology they all still possessed – their subcutaneous transmitters to be located and beamed up by Earth's ships – and that his name had given him away on the list of residents of his apartment building. Alice in Wonderland had been one of Cassandra's favorite stories when she'd just come to Earth and he'd started to explain to Teal'c and the alien girl about how Lewis Carroll, pseudonym of Charles Dodgson, had integrated mathematical concepts and references to French and Latin in his works. The two aliens had quickly lost interest but Daniel and Sam had ended up discussing the symbolisms and skills of the writer himself, with Jack mostly observing and every now and then surprising them with an actual argument one way or another.

Just because their Jack knew more about certain literature of course didn't mean this timeline's Jack did as well, but the memory of that night combined with Sam's instant recognition told him that she had somehow known what to look for. Perhaps her alias was similar or maybe that Colonel O'Neill had slipped up and accidentally revealed more to her than he'd intended. Daniel knew how deceiving Sam's wide blue eyes and enigmatic smile could be and so far he hadn't met or heard of any Jack O'Neill who'd been able to resist a Samantha Carter, so he didn't think it was inconceivable she'd tricked him. Either way, he had already decided he wasn't going to risk looking for Sam's alias since she'd more or less instructed him to reply and then wait until she'd contact him again. He wasn't intimidated by her brain and had no problem admitting she was far more equipped to deal with this situation than he was, but he'd support her in any way he could to fix the timeline!

"Let me just open the door for you," the receptionist said with a soft smile before she stepped away and gestured for him to enter. "Mister Dodgson is here to see you, Doctor MacKenzie," she announced as Daniel hobbled into the room.

"Yes, thank you, Trisha," MacKenzie acknowledged before waving her away. "It's good to see you again."

Daniel faked a smile and after setting his crutches aside, he shook the Doctor's hand. "Well, it's not like I have much of a choice, now do I?" He almost cringed at his own sarcasm and briefly wondered if he was subconsciously using Jack O'Neill's trademark in a way to keep his late friend close. Of course, he could always ask the shrink in front of him for some insight, but while buffing up, getting shot at almost daily and dying a few times had never really made him identify much with the soldiers of the SGC, he _had_ become like them in their dislike for psychiatrists and baring his deepest, most intimate thoughts and feelings to a stranger. Or maybe the human-form Replicators had something to do with his dislike for people delving into his mind.

"If you could take off your pants and take a seat, we can take a look at your leg," the Doctor gestured at the exam table as he pulled the privacy curtain and went to wash his hands. "How are you feeling today?"

"Pretty much the same as earlier this week," he replied as he pulled himself up on the table after folding his jeans over a chair. He still had to drop by here twice a week, but hopefully that would change to once a week next month. Seeing the man's skeptical look, Daniel shrugged. "I'm fine."

MacKenzie sat down on a stool, apparently waiting for him to take off his prosthetic limb too, and seemed to read up on his notes from the last visit. "You do realize alarm bells start ringing when someone who has lost his leg tells his doctor he's doing fine, less than three months after it happened?"

"I do now."

The man muttered something before he started to examine what was left of Daniel's leg and briefly looked up at his patient. "It's all right to be angry or feel frustrated by such a loss."

"In the grand scheme of things losing a leg isn't that big of a deal, I guess," he replied nonchalantly. "I could have died out there; instead I'm sitting here mostly in one piece."

"Yes, I am aware of the circumstances," MacKenzie affirmed. "However, that does not mean you're not justified to be upset. There are plenty of people who lose a limb in an accident and they might blame whoever caused the accident or themselves, and they often can't see beyond their loss-"

"I guess I can," Daniel said simply.

The Doctor nodded but it seemed like he was more pleased about his examination than actually agreeing with him. "The scar tissue is healing nicely, far better than I'd expected the first time I was read in on your case."

"That's good."

"It is. However, I am concerned about your attitude. You may think you're fine now, but the blow could come later especially if you keep denying what has happened."

Daniel frowned and irritably rubbed at his leg as the man moved away to make some notes in his chart. "I'm not denying anything. I know exactly what happened to me and how lucky I am. I could have easily frozen to death."

"Yes, but I've seen this before. You know I'm an Air Force doctor, right?" When Daniel nodded, the man continued. "I deal with a lot of military patients and I can't tell you how many have lost one or more limbs overseas. They barely escape with their lives and then they soldier on, because unlike some people they actually survived a bomb explosion, or whatever caused their injuries. However, they think they can skip a few steps and go straight to acceptance and everything will be just fine."

"I understand, I really do," Daniel admitted as he started to put his prosthetic back on. "But I'm not a soldier, Doctor. If this would have happened to Jack, Teal'c or Mitchell it would have been worse; they are soldiers, that's how they identify themselves. From my team, I'm not the brawn, I'm the brains. Yes, it's difficult to get around and it hurts sometimes, but worse things have happened. For me it would have been worse if I'd suffered brain damage. In the end being forced to live as someone else, without my friends in a world so different and yet similar, kind of trumps the loss of a leg," he concluded.

MacKenzie nodded slowly before he went back to the sink to wash his hands after pulling the privacy curtain again. "Well, you make a good point there. Still… I want you to think about this, don't rush or push yourself too hard, too fast. If you don't want to talk to me about it, then try keeping a journal."

"We'll see," he mumbled, not really conceding to anything as he pulled up his pants. Daniel had meant every word of that, but he couldn't really explain it to the doctor without elaborating on his life. What was losing a limb after watching Sha're, Skaara and Sarah be taken as a host for the Goa'uld? After being tortured, suffering from radiation poisoning and dying more than once? He'd ascended to a higher plane of existence only to come back again, suffering memory loss to fight against the Goa'uld. How could he possibly convince MacKenzie that was doing fine if not even his timeline's MacKenzie seemed to accept that answer? At the moment he was more worried about Sam and what she was going to have to do to be able to fix the timeline. Mitchell didn't worry him nearly as much, because the man was rather laidback, especially for someone working at the SGC and he simply hadn't lost as much as she – or Daniel himself – had when the timeline changed. Besides, Sam would go stir crazy if she couldn't work!

"In your last session," the surgeon smoothly morphed back into the role of psychiatrist as he sat down in his black leather chair, waiting for him to join him on the couch. "You spoke about living on an alien planet for a year, where you met your wife…"

* * *

><p><strong>2000 hours<br>McChord AFB  
>Lakewood, Washington<strong>

Jack suppressed a sigh as Maybourne continued to rattle on about the OSI report on Cameron Mitchell and how it seemed the man was settling in nicely, just as they'd expected. This is why he hated these kinds of meetings and impromptu assignments like the visits he'd been forced to make to Jackson and Mitchell. First they want him to fly all over the country in a day, give a quick update to his CO, write extensive reports on his visits and the information he's gleaned from them and then his CO and the NID call yet another briefing to life, just to discuss the reports he's filed! Okay, so maybe it wasn't all about him and the NID had some additional information but it all came down the same thing; they still didn't know squat about the trio from the alternate timeline! And Jack was really starting to worry about his own mental health when he had no trouble actually admitting they might be from an alternate timeline…

Another thing that wasn't clear to him was why they had to have meetings at this hour. Just because most of them were living in temporary base quarters didn't mean they were on duty twenty-four seven! Apparently today's reason was that MacKenzie was joining them to fill them in on some of the things he'd learned about the archeologist and so he had to fly out here, but they could have easily had the meeting tomorrow morning. At least that way he didn't have to listen to Hammond muttering about missing his granddaughter's play. Jack didn't have the heart – or courage, really –to tell the man that most teenagers probably didn't even want their parents, let alone their grandparents to show up when they had to perform their mandatory play in front of the entire school.

"… agree, Colonel O'Neill?"

_Crap!_ Jack was brought out of his musings by Maybourne's question and found everyone was looking at him. He really had to stop drifting off during these meetings, or Hammond might demote him to captain. "I'm sorry, what?" Despite his CO's exasperated sigh and the other Colonel's smug smile, he didn't regret his flippant attitude. It wasn't like they actually thought he'd been paying attention, anyway.

"Your visit with Doctor Jackson, son," Hammond spoke up. "After reviewing the recordings of your conversation with him and reading your impression of your little talk in your report it seems he speaks his mind more. Almost as if he is unaware that you are not the man he knew, or maybe he simply doesn't care; he certainly seemed to think you two were very much alike."

"What are you saying, exactly, Sir?"

Maybourne impatiently tapped his fingers on the file in front of him, waiting until he'd gotten everyone's attention. "What we're saying, Jack, is that so far you seemed to have gotten more out of him in your brief visit than weeks of surveillance have done."

"I agree," Doctor MacKenzie chimed in. "I've been seeing the man twice a week now, under the pretext of checking the healing progress of his leg. This week he's been especially open and talkative and I wasn't sure what had caused the change, but Colonel Maybourne's information has convinced me your visit was the reason, Colonel O'Neill. Granted, the man isn't divulging national secrets yet but he's sharing more of his life and the work he's done. Hopefully some of that will lead to useful information."

The direction this conversation was taking was setting Jack's instincts on high alert, just like last time before they'd told him about his new assignment involving Samantha Carter. He couldn't believe they thought he might be of help with the archeologist and even if he was, what did they want him to do? Clone himself so that one of him could be on the east coast with Jackson and the other half could stay here in Washington State? "Perhaps it's just acceptance of the situation, General Hammond. The man has been living in New York for almost a month now and he's had time to deal with it."

"Doctor, what is your professional opinion about this?" Hammond asked, looking at the man sitting across from him.

"From the very beginning he has seemed rather accepting of the situation, which concerns me to be honest. He is taking it too well and-"

"Oh for crying out loud," Jack whined, interrupting the shrink. "Why do you guys always have to do that, huh? I thought you were supposed to help him deal with this, not question his attitude once he's accepted the situation."

MacKenzie looked a bit offended at the interruption, or maybe the implication, and sat up straighter. "Colonel O'Neill, I have years of experience dealing with military patients who've lost one or more limbs and-"

"Please," he made a dismissive wave with his hand. "We can all sit here and talk about our experience with similar situations, but the fact is there has never _been_ anything coming even close to the one we've found ourselves in! Who knows what the man has done and seen in his timeline, maybe losing his leg really isn't that important to him in the bigger picture! We just don't know and all we can do is make educated guesses. I don't know what goes around in the guy's head and neither do any of you. I also doubt that my visiting him lifted his spirits or anything, because I didn't see any big changes in him myself."

"With all due respect, General Hammond and Doctor MacKenzie, but Jack has a point," Harry Maybourne conceded with obvious reluctance. "We don't know what these people are up to and that's why we have to continue monitoring their activity."

"Yeah, about that, Harry," Jack said as he browsed through his folder. "What's up with your people? I could spot them a mile away when I pulled into Carter's street and while the daily reports from the surveillance equipment are detailed enough to bore anyone to tears, there are moments missing in the reports from the tail you put on her. Huge honking gaps up to half an hour! Now, I'm not saying I need an update every time she finishes a chapter in the library or have to know how many pages she reads in an hour, but I would like to know what the hell she's supposedly doing in the ladies room for half an hour!"

Before Maybourne had a chance to reply, Hammond had flipped open his own folder and seemed to skim through the mentioned reports. "Is this true, Colonel Maybourne? Are your men too lazy to check this out or are they simply incapable of doing their jobs? How can we know the rest of this is true, hm?"

"I-I will make sure to, er, debrief the two men in question personally and will ensure she gets a new detail… after conferring with Colonel Simmons, who's in charge of the on-site surveillance," Maybourne stammered with burning cheeks, almost latching onto Simmons' name when he thought of it, obviously eager to lay blame on someone else.

"I know you will, Colonel," Hammond replied with narrowed eyes. "Because I have a conference call with your commanding officer, General Kennedy tomorrow morning and I will make sure to add this to my list."

Harry nodded with a grimace on his face, his eyes darting between the three-star and Jack. "Of course, Sir, I understand."

"General, if I may?" MacKenzie spoke up after a moment of heavy silence. When he received a curt nod, he glanced down at his notes with a concerned look in his eyes. "There is one thing that worries me about Doctor Jackson after my conversation with him today. It has become clear to me that he's not the sort of person to focus on his personal difficulties, a quality he obviously shares with his counterparts. Even as we spoke about his own life and how he was adapting to his new identity and the loss of his leg, he told me he was more concerned about the welfare of his teammates than his own."

"I'm not sure I follow, Doctor."

MacKenzie frowned, seemingly searching for words. "When he told me about the first time he went through this Stargate… No, Colonel Maybourne, he did not go into detail about the enemy or alien technology," he said while holding up his hand to stop Harry from interrupting him. "He did however tell me about living there for over a year, getting married and becoming a part of their community-"

"Yeah, I'm sure that's all very interesting, Doc, but we don't have all evening," Jack said dryly.

"Right," the man cleared his throat awkwardly. "Anyway, obviously he cares deeply for the people in his life, perhaps as a result of being orphaned at such a youn-Ah, right, I'm sorry," MacKenzie looked sheepish when Jack glared at him and motioned with his hand to hurry it up. "When his wife and brother-in-law were abducted he didn't brood on his personal loss, but he set out to help them even though he was even less than ill-equipped for the task. All in all, I got the feeling he feels a tremendous sorrow and perhaps even guilt for those he couldn't help, but he never really stops to think of himself."

General Hammond gave the man a pointed stare before rubbing his bald head, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Doctor, could you please get to the point?"

"He mentioned how his life could have turned out so differently if he hadn't met his wife, or had never been recruited into his timeline's Stargate Program," MacKenzie tried to explain. When no one reacted, he seemed a bit frustrated. "Don't you see? This timeline's Jackson is exactly what he would have been in that case, how he would have ended up. It's possible this is the first time he'll start thinking about himself, or rather his counterpart."

"Are you implying he might reach out to our world's Doctor Jackson?" Hammond questioned angrily. "That would be against the conditions of his NDA!"

Maybourne tried to intervene by clearing his throat loudly. "Sir, with respect, it wasn't easy for us to find Dr Jackson. The man doesn't want to be found and he's basically hiding out in Egypt because he's been ridiculed out of the academic world."

"Oh come on, Harry," Jack said jovially, shaking his head. "They are basically the same person! Do you really think the other Jackson never went to Egypt? I'll bet he could tell you exactly what hotel, maybe even which room his counterpart is most likely staying at."

"Fine," Maybourne reluctantly agreed. "General Hammond, with your permission I would like to tap the other Jackson's phone too, just in case they use a pay phone or something."

Hammond was already nodding in agreement, before he seemed to catch himself. "Colonel, that's the NID's department. I'll pass your request on to General Kennedy in the morning."

"Thank you, Sir."

"General," Jack said slowly, waiting until he had his CO's attention. "If the Doc is right, I would suggest getting this done as fast as possible. I mean, the man might seem sympathetic but what do you think he's going to do? Just give his counterpart a pep talk and be done with it? Even if our Jackson had been married to his childhood sweetheart there's no one who would know him better than his counterpart; if the other guy manages to convince him he's been right all along, then I have no doubt he'll encourage him to seek evidence to proof his claims. Then what? If his counterpart makes his findings public the entire thing will come to light eventually and then the shit will really hit the fan. Sir," he added belatedly.

"Jack is right, Sir," Maybourne confirmed, briefly looking up at the Lieutenant General from his notepad as he hastily scribbled down some things.

Hammond slowly exhaled, his fingers rapping on the tabletop. "Do we know what the other Jackson knows? Does he pose a danger? Doctor, do you think the two Jacksons would work together on this?"

"I can't say for certain, General," MacKenzie shook his head. "I believe that he will reach out, but I can only guess as to the reason why – it could be as simple as plain curiosity or encouragement. Even if he tells him, I'm not sure his counterpart would believe him."

Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Jack squirmed in his chair as a silence descended upon the room. He'd been expecting Maybourne to chime in anytime now about the other Jackson, but apparently he hadn't really investigated the man's claims. "Sir? During my visit to New York Jackson mentioned having bought his counterpart's book. Since I was waiting at the airport for my flight to Kansas, I got my hands on a copy of _The Truth About the Pyramids_ by Dr Daniel Jackson and read it on the plane."

"I'm impressed, son," Hammond said with a small, probably amused, smile before he threw a glare in Maybourne's direction.

Harry, who was no doubt berating himself for not thinking of doing that himself, nodded at Hammond. "I'll have someone look into that. What's in it, Jack?"

"It's mostly about archeological records showing the evolution of pyramid design, construction and function but from what I recall from Jackson's first few interviews at Elmendorf, he's pretty close. Probably doesn't realize _how_ close he really is, but if he gets a push in the right direction from his counterpart… I mean, he's already trying to find proof that aliens visited Earth and that the pyramids were landing pads for their spaceships."

"Excellent work, Colonel O'Neill," Hammond complimented him. "Colonel Maybourne?"

"We'll get right on that, Sir," Harry nodded, jotting down some notes. "General Kennedy already mentioned sending a group of excavators to Egypt after we learned the trio was speaking the truth. I'll check in with them and see if they've found anything substantial and make sure it gets back on a plane to Area 51 right away."

Hammond appeared to be satisfied with that and turned back to Jack. "How is your mission with Ms Carter going, son?"

"On my last visit she seemed less hostile but it's pretty clear the woman doesn't want me around," Jack replied with a shrug.

"I've read your report and the suspicions you had about her and Daniel Jackson," Maybourne commented. "Doctor MacKenzie, are you aware of the feelings your patient has for Carter?"

Jack had to stop himself from raising his eyebrows in surprise when the good doctor rattled on about the close friendship the two seemed to have and how it wasn't uncommon for such feelings to occur and perhaps even grow under the circumstances of their work in the other timeline… he quickly tuned the man out as he went on and on about different kinds of reactions and feelings of friendship, how they differed from romantic feelings, but could sometimes be confused by them. Jack was by no means an angel and certainly no innocent when it came to the military, but even he was surprised that there apparently was no doctor-patient confidentiality for Jackson. Of course, if the archeologist was a danger to the timeline it would be more than acceptable, but some of the things MacKenzie was sharing with them were simply of personal nature and had no real bearing on the situation.

It made him wonder if he himself had ever been discussed so callously after one of his mandatory counseling sessions. Jack had never really trusted shrinks and since he wasn't a big talker, he preferred to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself. Everyone knew if you went to the shrink it would get on your permanent record, but there had been times where he'd been ordered to have a minimum number of sessions with a base psychiatrist before he could be cleared for duty. His parachute incident above the border between Iran and Iraq; his skull fracture had made the total of nine days a blur and all he could recall was thinking of Sara and how his wife had kept him going. That had earned him some medical leave and mandatory sessions, but paled in comparison to when Cromwell had left him behind in the Gulf War and Jack had ended up doing four months in an Iraqi prison. That time it had been the thought of Tyler that pulled him through, but his recovery had been hell and he still had nightmares about that time. But now he couldn't help but wonder if his shrink back then been chatting about his confidential problems and experience with his superiors over a cup of coffee…

"… we can all agree on that, Sir," Maybourne replied to a question from Hammond. "So Jack, basically that just means you'll have to try harder with Carter. Spend some more time with her, get closer and try to coax some stories out of her like you did with Jackson. Only try to focus on the important stuff, okay? Don't worry about her actual explanations because even though we've pulled back the surveillance van, we're still recording everything from the audio and visual bugs; just not watching them in real time anymore. And this time do it without rousing her suspicion, please."

"General," Jack turned to Hammond, pointedly ignoring Maybourne's little 'order'. "I don't know if that woman will ever confide in me. She has control and trust issues and honestly, with all due respect Sir, this was a _bad_ idea from the beginning. It's been almost four weeks and we still have nothing."

The three-star seemed to consider this for a moment before he came to a decision. "Turn on the charm, son. There must be something you can offer her to show your good will?"

"Well," he recalled his previous visit and how bored she'd been. "She wants to know how her two little friends are doing. I also told her to contact her OSI handlers to see about getting her a job, because the woman has too much time on her hands. The only problem is that she's either not qualified for the jobs or they go against the conditions of her NDA; too big a risk of exposure or too close to her fields of expertise. I asked her to reconsider the mission commander's job, but she didn't want it."

"Push harder, Colonel. It might the best solution; we don't want her to have too much time on her hands, it could be dangerous. Remind her of what she stands to gain by that."

Maybourne was already packing up his files, but spared him a glance. "She doesn't have her teammates around and with the exception of the couple of admirers that have been dropping by her house lately, she's all alone. Remind her she can have her family back…"

"Yes, about those admirers… have you checked them out?"

"Everyone in that town has been screened, Colonel O'Neill. But the last thing we need is for Ms Carter to get romantically involved with someone besides you or even get attached to friends. Remember that she can't get too comfortable here, either. And see about throwing her a bone in regards to her teammates; tell her about your visits, that might warm her up to you a bit," Hammond concluded.


	11. Day Thirty of a New Life

**Day 30  
>1500 hours<br>Liddell Residence  
>Rainier, Washington<strong>

Jack stepped out of his borrowed car and checked his watch when he realized that instead of Sam's car there was a truck in her driveway. Before leaving the base he'd spoken to Maybourne who'd assured him his charge would be home, since she hadn't left the house all day unlike earlier this week when she – and her new NID tail – had taken a few trips to Olympia. For a moment he considered calling Maybourne or Simmons, demanding they check to whom the truck belonged and where Sam was, but before he could make up his mind a man, about his own age but in lesser physical condition came out the front door and walked up to the truck.

"Colonel O'Neill," the man greeted with a small smile and a nod.

Frowning, Jack looked at him and wondered how he knew his name because he'd certainly never seen the man before! "Eh, hi," he mumbled in response, but the man had already jumped in the truck and slammed the door closed. Stepping aside so the truck could leave the driveway, he gave a curt nod of his own when the stranger waved at him before driving off. "Weird," Jack muttered under his breath and made his way up to the front porch.

"Lucy, I'm home," he called out as he opened the unlocked door and stepped inside. Not seeing anyone in the living room, Jack made his way into the house and, sparing an admiring glance at the new kitchen island, checked out the open kitchen and dining room. There was a cup of coffee on the counter so he headed left, figuring there was a bigger chance Sam would be around there rather than her actually being in either of the guest rooms or the second bathroom on the other side of the house. The door to her bedroom was ajar and after cautiously peeking inside, he pushed it fully open and let out a low whistle. "Nice!"

Sam's head whipped around at the sound of his voice and she quickly jumped up from her bent-over position. "Colonel O'Neill, what are you doing here?"

Jack walked into the room and shrugged. "Well, I did tell you I'd help you with that closet… but it looks like I'm too late," he gestured at the corner where she was standing. The walk-in closet had been there but now the room looked far more spacious without it. Obviously she'd been busy and he was impressed that besides some paint damage in the middle there wasn't any evidence of the closet. If not for his knowledge and her 'work' outfit he wouldn't have known the closet had been there! "When did you do all this?"

"This morning, I just finished cleaning up," she replied, still looking at him warily. "How did you get in here?"

"The door was unlocked, Sherlock. I saw your friend coming out of the house so I figured you had to be home." He added, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb when she frowned.

Sam nodded and turned back to the frame on the floor she'd been holding when he first came in. "Jim offered to take all the stuff to the landfill for me in his truck," she explained, making a vague hand gesture to encompass the closet that had been there.

"Jim?" He reiterated with a small frown. When she simply nodded and proceeded to futz with the frame, he sighed. "How did Jim know who I was?"

"I don't know," she shrugged as she straightened up to hang up the frame. "He's Tommy's father," she threw over her shoulder.

"Oh, well in _that_ case…" Jack replied sarcastically. What did that have anything to do with it?

Once the frame was on the wall Sam turned around to face him. "Tommy was here when you introduced yourself to Tim, so one of them probably told him. Who knows, it's a small town."

"I guess," he admitted reluctantly. It wasn't as if he was a stranger to small towns; Winter Park had about a third of Rainier's population, after all. It was just weird that people here knew who he was, he thought to himself.

"What do you think?"

Jack looked up when she stepped aside and gestured at the framed poster on her wall. "Funny, very funny," he said dryly as he eyed the iconic _The X-files_ poster.

"I figured the OSI would object to an Einstein poster, or anything physics related and NASA pictures would probably be out too," Sam explained with a small grin. "When I came across this one I thought it was fitting; I certainly believe."

"So I take it that means you haven't run into any money problems yet?" He inquired with a nod towards her latest purchase. "Or have you found a job?"

The grin left her face, which Jack thought was a shame, and she reached for the tools she'd used. "No, I've been in contact with Special Agent Wood but she basically dismissed everything I mentioned."

"It's not too late to change your mind about the mission commander's job…"

"I told you before; I've done the whole dead national hero thing before and it's just not me," she said with an eye roll as she moved past him.

Jack followed her into the garage where she put her things away as he leaned into the doorway. "Well, that's kind of the point, isn't it? Being her and not you."

"What would be in it for me?" Sam questioned with a raised brow. "I would just get another house, another name and another life to live. I still wouldn't get to see Daniel or Cam or try to find a way back home."

"Not just another name," he countered, stepping back to allow her back into the house. "_Your_ name."

She walked past him and went into the kitchen. "But not _my_ life. I would just be a puppet for your government."

"How is it any worse than this life?" Jack asked as he plopped down on a barstool at the new kitchen island. "At least you'd get to do some pretty amazing stuff instead of disguising yourself and applying for mediocre jobs."

"Right now I have more of a say in what I do than I'd have as the mission commander."

"You don't know that, Sam. Besides, you said it yourself; you're already going stir crazy with doing nothing."

She shrugged and started the coffeemaker. "I'm not her and I could never _be_ her."

Jack fiddled with the notepad on the counter as he held her gaze. "How do you know that?"

"Even though I look like her we're completely different people," she replied.

"But you don't even know her… didn't know her," he amended with a small frown.

Suddenly something seemed to spark in her eyes as she leaned on the counter, giving him an intense look. "Did you?"

Jack shook his head slowly, surprised to see a mixture of… disappointment and sadness flash over her features before she schooled her expression. "No, not really. I knew _of_ her, but we never met in person."

"You didn't like her," Sam said after a beat, a curious expression on her face.

"She was NASA's poster girl, what's not to like?" He asked dryly. She seemed amused by his retort but quickly turned her back to him to pour both of them some coffee. "You could still get to do what you love; making technological advances and living under your real name."

She placed his coffee – he was surprised to see she knew he took it black – in front of him and gave him a wistful smile. "What's a life like that without the people you love?"

_That's the heart of the _matter, Jack thought. He liked her directness and the fact she didn't seem to hold back this time, but it also made him think about his own situation – his assignment, his family and her place in all this – and wonder how they were all going to get through this unscathed. Of course, if he was honest with himself he already knew there was no way they would all get out of this intact. Someone would end up hurt and despite sympathizing with her and her situation, he was determined it wasn't going to be his son.

"You know," Sam started softly as she cradled her cup of coffee in her hands, breaking the silence. "I've met my fair share of Samantha Carters, or whatever name they were going by at the time. Different counterparts from different realities, but we all had the Stargate Program and all that entailed in common."

His interest was definitely piqued; this was the first time he'd heard her talk about this. "Is that why you think you're not like the mission commander? Because you didn't have the Stargate in common?"

"In a way, maybe," she mumbled. "None of us was the same, because obviously we wouldn't both exist otherwise. Ask Doctor Lee about it."

"That obvious, huh?" Jack retorted, slightly embarrassed by the fact she'd seen right through him as he pretended to listen and understand. He really had to reassess his masks or work on schooling his features better because she read him like an open book sometimes!

"To some," she replied quizzically. "Anyway, I've also lived several different lives throughout the years. Sometimes I was aware of it other times I wasn't; but every single time I had my friends with me."

_Ah!_ That was what this was all about? "Look Sam, we both know the government won't reunite you with your friends any time soon and-"

"More like never," she interrupted him. "So again, I ask you; what's in it for me?"

"The work you could do," Jack tried again. "You could be working on all kinds of interesting gadgets and doodads, especially if the Navy wants your expertise for their Stargate Program."

Sam looked at him warily, obviously not buying his sales pitch. "Like the Navy would ever trust me to work on alien technology! And should I just do all that in between the mission commander's work? You do know I've never actually gotten any qualifications to work as an astronaut. It might look strange to the public if I have to learn everything again."

"Well, you had amnesia so the doctors and NASA want to make sure you're all right again." He was surprised by how easy the answer came to him and shot her a smile. "You're smart enough to pick it up. Besides, didn't you want to be an astronaut when you were little?" When she simply stared at him as if he'd said something wrong, he shrugged. "I did, when I was a kid. I used to stargaze with my grandfather and wanted to travel to the moon and other planets."

"I did too," she said slowly, with a faraway expression on her face. "I'd already planned it all out but then the _Challenger_ disaster happened and I realized I couldn't hold off my plans in the hopes the Shuttle Program would be reinstated by the time I would be ready, so I joined the military instead. I knew I could always try to reapply as an Air Force nominee if the time came."

Now _that_ was interesting, because Jack knew Mission Commander Carter _had_ chosen to go to MIT and get the degrees – doctorates in engineering and physics – she needed to qualify for NASA despite the _Challenger _Disaster. Or maybe because of it; she'd been determined to go into space and, if need be she'd be the one to make sure the Shuttle Program would be reinstated. The woman had been a genius and NASA had been more than happy to take her on, and with her looks and personality she'd soon become their poster girl, with that infatuated concert pianist, McKay, donating large sums of money to make her dream a reality. "But that never happened… let me guess, because of the Stargate?"

"Sort of, yes," Sam admitted. "Trust me, after going to other planets on a regular basis and coming across the races, spaceships and other technologies I've seen, a shuttle is really anticlimactic and hanging out in space all suited up is even worse."

"You've actually been in space in a spacesuit?"

"Once or twice," she shrugged.

He watched her as she slowly sipped her coffee, wondering if he should ask more or if it would be better to stop now instead of pushing her and risking upsetting her. "So even if you were allowed to see your friends you wouldn't consider reprising your counterpart's life?" When she simply blinked those blue eyes of hers at him, as if he was asking for the obvious he let out a sigh. "Just tell me, so I can tell my superiors and let them know there's not a snowball's chance in hell they'll get another Mission Commander Carter."

"Well, you have to admit you don't really have the best track record with space shuttles," Sam replied slowly, a soft smile playing on her lips. "And there's nothing you can do to make it more enticing. Unless they would allow me access to the Stargate of course and let me try and find a way home."

Jack groaned and ran a hand through his unruly hair. "Oh come on, you and I both know the Navy would never agree to that if they get their Program up and running. Hell, the government would never let you work on a way home, because it would mean the end of life as we know it."

"To be honest we don't even know if that's true. This is the first time I've ended up in an alternate timeline and I have no idea what kind of technology Ba'al used to execute his plan. I would need to see the 'gate itself to learn more about our options but your government won't allow me to even explore the possibilities. Not to sound arrogant but _I_ don't even know for sure how it works and we have a lot more experience with time travel, the 'gate and alternate realities in my timeline. Your scientists don't even comprehend the technology behind the Stargate. But you would never recommend any of this to your superiors because of your family, right?" She asked quietly.

"You heard that archeologist; my son died in your timeline, how can that be right?"

"Sometimes some things are meant to happen," she said with a barely noticeable shrug.

Jack huffed, shaking his head. "That's easy for you to say but you didn't lose your son."

He saw her swallow hard and could almost hear her grind her teeth as she clenched her jaw, before she spoke. "And neither did _you_. I, on the other hand, have lost everyone I've ever cared about. And for what? A timeline where everything is just a tiny bit different; where all the different nations are still fighting amongst each other while we're all waiting for Ba'al to come by and blast our planet to bits."

"That may be, but I'll do whatever I can to prevent my son from dying."

"I know," she whispered, the fire from moments before gone from her eyes. "You would do anything to protect the ones you love, your family, your son… your wife."

Jack gulped, trying to think of a way out without outright lying to her or betraying his vows. "I-I'm not, eh, married," he lied after a beat. His fists clenched involuntarily at the lie but he couldn't help it; the NID and his superiors were recording every word he said and every move he made in this house. If he had told her the truth they would have known and he would've been reassigned – if not worse. Even though Jack didn't want this assignment in the first place he also couldn't afford to lose it, not with Tyler's life on the line.

"Oh," Sam mumbled. After a few seconds of silence she broke her gaze away from his and cast her eyes down at the countertop.

It almost seemed as if she'd been… disappointed in his answer, which didn't make any sense to him. There was no way she could know he'd just lied to her, because even though she could read his facial expressions from time to time he'd always been very good at lying – it had been essential to his career, his survival for years – and he'd made sure to wear his blank expression. And if his superiors were right, if she was somehow closer to his counterpart and maybe even interested in him then why would she have been disappointed? Jack decided he probably just misread her; after all, it had only been a brief flash. "You know," he tried to break the silence awkwardly, clearing his throat. "You could still have your family too."

"My family died years ago," Sam countered with a steely look in her eyes. "I don't need some cheap imitation of them and I highly doubt the mission commander's family would want an imposter in their lives. It might sound as a nice incentive to me, but have you ever stopped to think what it would be like for them, Colonel? You and your government are so focused on what I may be able to do for you but you fail to see the bigger picture."

"Is that so?"

"You want me to redo the last ten years of my life and give you all the technology you could ever hope for, all the while Ba'al is amassing his forces and will be on his way here."

"Whoa there, Miss Glass-is-half-empty," Jack protested with a wave of his hand. "Don't you think you're overreacting a bit with this intergalactic bad guy?"

Sam rolled her eyes and let out a deep, exasperated-sounding sigh. "Technically, Colonel, Ba'al is only after the Milky Way Galaxy so that would make him a 'galactic bad guy'. His ships aren't advanced enough yet to travel to other galaxies, unless he's managed to get his hands on some more advanced technology but I doubt he'd waste his time with that right now. Too much at stake for him."

"Fine, whatever. You know, even if you don't want to become an astronaut you could still help the government with your knowledge of physics, technology and defenses."

"It's really of no use," she said with a shrug. "Most of the technology I've worked with requires alien elements and technology. Nothing of which we have on Earth and nothing your Navy could acquire easily. You should tell your government that their expectations are too high; I'm only one person-"

"But you have saved the planet single-handedly on several occasions, according to your teammates," Jack countered.

Sam blushed, her eyes evading his. "I've had help from my team, colleagues, subordinates and alien allies. Not to mention most of that has been done with alien technology or at least reverse-engineered technology."

"They also told me you wrote several physics books, about wormhole theory and manuals for the dialing program…" He grinned softly when her blush deepened and she turned her back to him, under the pretext of refilling her coffee. At first he'd found all the things he'd heard about her and her teammates too far-fetched but with time he'd realized some – if not most – of it was probably true and he thought it was… nice, to see how modest she was about her accomplishments.

"Don't tell me you're suggesting I write them again?" She questioned, wide-eyed.

Jack made a vague gesture with his hand and shrugged. "Mitchell told us you wrote them and if you had time to write them in between saving the world from intergalactic villains then why not now? It's not like you have your hands full of other important things to do."

"Well, seeing as how Cam wasn't actually there at the time I'm pretty sure he overlooked the small detail of the report that mentioned I was under the influence of alien technology at the time." Sam rolled her eyes and explained. "The armbands gave us incredible speed and strength, and increased our natural abilities. It only took me a few hours to write entire books at the time and that was on even better laptops than the one you've provided me with… So yeah, I'll get right on that," she added dryly.

"Those bracelets sound like nice doohickeys," he said. For a brief moment he actually regretted that the NID stopped listening in and watching the surveillance feeds live, because Jack would have loved to see what Maybourne would have done with this kind of information!

She snorted and shook her head, almost as if she'd expected his reply. "I hate to disappoint you, Colonel O'Neill, but they worked with an alien virus and after a few hours the wearer would become immune and thus the armband became ineffective and fell off. Besides, even if I wanted to help you find it, I wouldn't know where to look; one of our allies brought them to us because it didn't work on their physiology and they wanted to unravel the mystery of the race that had created them. It didn't take them long to figure out the race had become extinct after everyone became immune to the virus or they died because of the organ failure induced by long-term use of the armband. Trust me, those people were far more advanced than we are and even they couldn't find a way around that."

"That's too bad…"

"Well, considering you don't even _have_ a Stargate Program yet, I really think it's too soon to start thinking about all the nice technology and evil enemies you can find out there…" She cocked her head to the side and the corners of her mouth curled up. "How is the search for the 'gate coming along, anyway?"

Jack swallowed the last of his coffee and, after putting down his cup, stood to stretch his tall frame lazily. "You know that's classified, Sam. Besides, even if I'd be allowed to tell you I probably wouldn't be informed by the Navy. I don't know what it's like in your timeline but even though the Navy doesn't mind lending the Air Force a helping hand – or more likely a boat or submarine – every now and then, the squids and flyboys don't mingle much nor do the different branches of the service share any information willingly."

"Yet they still expect _me_ to help them set up their Program?"

"Nah, they're probably hoping they can rig it up themselves, waste a few months if not years and then, if Bocce hasn't blown us to smithereens yet, they'll come ask you for help," Jack quipped.

Sam grabbed his empty cup and put it in the dishwasher before she jerked her thumb in the direction of her bedroom. "I'm going to change out of these dusty clothes before doing my groceries."

"Okay," Jack muttered, his eyes giving her a quick onceover as she walked away. There hadn't been any visible evidence of her demolishing her walk-in closet on her clothes but he could imagine she'd want to get out of them… He had the feeling this visit had gone well, much better than his previous ones and she had definitely been more talkative. Now he was wondering what he should do; tell her about his earlier visits to her friends and how they're doing or keep that information to himself until he _had_ to use it? By the time Sam appeared in the corridor and called for his attention, he was still contemplating what to do.

"You know," Sam started when he'd walked over to her and followed her into the garage. "You might want to check with the Russians."

"Excuse me?" He frowned at her as she opened her car door and threw in her bag.

Putting on her sunglasses and pressing the button for the garage door to open, she grinned. "They have a habit of gatenapping."

Jack could have sworn her grin grew into a smirk and he nodded. "You know, we could continue this conversation if I would go with you."

"Or you could just… go," she winked and settled into her car before driving off.

* * *

><p><strong>1710 hours<br>Walmart  
>Yelm, Washington<strong>

Sam was leisurely strolling through the store, stopping every now and then to put something in her cart and mostly ignoring the few speculative looks thrown her way. These past few weeks she'd gotten used to people stopping to stare at her but luckily no one had actually come up to her to say she looked suspiciously like a dead astronaut. She wasn't sure if that was because they were unsure of whom she reminded them or if they didn't have the courage to come up to her – or maybe they simply didn't care. However, she usually wore one of her caps and preferably her shades out in public, but today she'd been too distracted by Colonel O'Neill's visit to take a cap with her. Despite the bright lights in the store she'd also come to realize wearing shades indoors made her look even more suspicious, so she'd quickly traded them for the fake glasses the OSI had given her.

She hadn't worn them often, only whenever she snuck out of the library in Olympia and that's why they were still in her handbag but when she did, she usually combined it with her hair pulled out of her face. Today though, her blond locks were simply framing her face like she'd taken to wear her hair ever since growing it out, unless she was on duty or working out and she'd pull it in a ponytail or braid it. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she had the feeling that she'd gotten more stares today because of it. After all, Mission Commander Samantha Carter had worn her hair like this in a lot of promotional pictures too. For a brief moment Sam had even considered buying hair dye in the cosmetic corner, perhaps dye her hair brown or something but she'd quickly shaken the thought off; it might look like she was trying even harder to disguise her appearance. Besides, she actually liked her natural hair color.

When she nearly bumped into someone for the second time since she'd gotten here, she glanced at her watch and realized the time. Most of her day had gone by and Sam had no idea how it had happened without her noticing. Of course she'd been pretty busy all morning with demolishing the walk-in closet, which had been an excellent way to work off some of her frustrations at not being able to pick up the phone to call Daniel despite knowing what his alias, address and phone number were. He and Cameron had both sent her a reply and she'd been in a pretty good mood ever since, simply because she knew they were doing all right.

Cam's message had been short and to the point, very similar as her own to him because they both knew Ancient wasn't his strong suit. He was doing well, adjusting pretty good to his life and had a job restoring old cars. More importantly though, he'd more or less told her he wouldn't be able to help her since his OSI handlers were keeping a pretty close eye on him and he knew that if they even suspected she'd contacted him, he'd be relocated and forced to start another life – unless of course they'd simply lock him up – and he didn't want that. It was understandable and Sam had somewhat expected it, but despite being prepared it was still a disappointment. It wasn't even that she really needed his help and he had made sure to point that out, but he'd promised to help if she actually _needed_ him.

Daniel's reply had been more of a letter, several pages long and it broke her heart to read about his life. Not that he sounded depressed, but he certainly sounded a lot more pessimistic than she'd ever known him to. Then again, she knew she had also changed, not just because of ending up in this timeline but the loss of Jack and their other loved ones had affected both of them deeply. Daniel had touched on that too and it was one of the reasons she wished she could just pick up the phone and talk to him, right now they needed each other to deal with everything that had happened. They both knew it wasn't possible though, at least not yet; once her company was up and running they'd have a lot more opportunities to keep in touch. He had given her the details of his alias so she knew exactly what to do to send out a job description that would be perfect for him and with the company being in Therra's name their handlers wouldn't suspect a thing, hopefully.

Sam couldn't wait until the time came because she was getting restless and had cut her trips to Olympia short too. It hadn't escaped her notice that she'd gotten a new NID tail and they certainly seemed a lot more dedicated to their job, and actually knew a thing or two about following someone without their target knowing about it. As a precaution she'd stopped slipping out of the library and instead had never stayed in the restrooms for longer than ten minutes. She'd even taken the risk of scanning it with her homemade EMF finder just in case they'd bugged the place but nothing had shown up. After a few of these visits she'd felt more comfortable and two days ago she'd finally slipped out for the short trip – ten minutes in total – to the post office, to check if Therra had gotten any mail and found the messages.

She had purposely remained vague in her own letter about the exact nature of her plan, although from Daniel's response she knew he suspected what she was up to; he knew her far too well. It was too risky, even with writing in Ancient because she couldn't afford the OSI or the NID to get their hands on a blueprint of her plan. That was also the reason she'd made sure to come up with something she wouldn't _need_ Daniel or Cameron's help with, simply because she couldn't afford to depend on them just in case something – or someone – would prevent them from fulfilling their part. Still, it would be nice to stay in regular contact with them and _with_ Daniel's help it would probably go a lot smoother and faster.

Sam sighed when she reached the checkout and glanced over her groceries just to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. The box of Frooties she just _had_ to buy stood out from the rest and with a small smile she started unloading her cart. It was stupid and sentimental of her, but it was one of the few things that reminded her of her Jack and she couldn't help herself. She had nothing of his here in this timeline, nothing but her memories to remember him by and unfortunately the one of the last time they'd seen each other, when he'd died, was usually on the forefront of her mind.

It was one of the reasons it was so hard to see Colonel O'Neill all the time. He reminded her of Jack, which wasn't that strange considering he was the man's counterpart but it was difficult to look at him and not see _Jack_. She usually tried to focus on his unblemished eyebrows because it was one of the few outward differences. His slimmer physique wasn't that big of a help since her Jack had been very fit throughout his time at the SGC, when she'd worked side by side with him almost twenty-four seven, it was only since flying a desk in DC that he'd gained weight and if she were honest, she didn't even really notice it anymore. She simply didn't care because she finally had _him_. Until that day on the Tok'ra planet over two months ago…

The girl at the register pulled her from her thoughts and Sam absentmindedly paid her, took her groceries and went back to her car. It didn't take her long to put them away and the drive home took her about fifteen minutes. When she pulled into her garage though, she suddenly realized that there'd been a military car – borrowed from McChord no doubt – parked at the curb. Leaving the groceries in the back of the car, she quickly snuck back into her house only to find Colonel O'Neill sitting on her couch!

"What are you doing here?"

He startled, quickly pulling his sock-clad feet off her coffee table and turning around to look at her sheepishly. "Hey, you're back."

"Yes…" Sam stared at him, taking in how at home he'd made himself. Another one of the reasons he reminded her of her Jack. "I asked you a question."

"I was just, eh, waiting until you got back," he replied with a shy grin.

"Great," she muttered. "I thought I told you to leave?"

O'Neill shrugged and patted on the sofa. "Come on, Sam, take a load off. Beer?"

Taken aback by his casual and familiar demeanor, she just stood there, staring at the beer bottle he was offering her. "You do realize this is _my_ house and that's _my_ beer you're offering me, right?"

"Yeah and you've got good taste too," he smirked, taking a swig of his own Guinness while dangling the other bottle in front of her. "I figured you could do with some relaxation. You've been a little… tense."

"Tense, me? I'm not tense," she countered. Seeing his skepticism she shrugged and took the beer before plopping down next to him. "Fine, maybe a little but it's no-"

"Hey, no need to explain," the Colonel said, patting her knee.

The familiar setting lured her into a false sense of security but the warmth of his hand on her jeans startled her, the touch almost electrifying and Sam automatically jerked her leg away. "I-I, eh…" she cleared her throat awkwardly as she scooted as far away from him as possible.

"I'm sorry, that was, eh, inappropriate."

"No, it's just… I guess you were right about me being tense," she joked uneasily. This was exactly why she'd left earlier because when he was being so nice to her the line between Colonel O'Neill and Jack blurred. She'd lowered her guard a bit because of the good news from her friends earlier and before she'd even realized it, she'd been in a flirty banter with the Colonel and that made it difficult for her to remain objective. She damn well needed her objectivity and a clear head if she was going to pull off her mission to restore the timeline! His presence confused her since he was so like her Jack in many ways and it was a distraction she couldn't really afford. "Why… um, why did you stay?"

"I wanted to share something with you," O'Neill replied, gesturing with his bottle. "About your friends."

Her curiosity was piqued and she tried to shake off the feelings of discomfort of being around him and glanced at him. "Something about Daniel and Cam?"

He nodded, shifting in his seat. After a moment he set his bottle back on the table and turned towards her. "You asked about them the last time I was here."

"Yes… have you inquired about them with your superiors?" Sam asked, feigning her confusion. Both of her friends had already mentioned a visit from Colonel O'Neill in their replies to her, but of course he didn't know that and she wasn't about to tell him.

"Ah, yeah," O'Neill muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. A sign that he felt ill at ease or perhaps it was because he felt awkward about telling her. "I saw them. The flyboy was doing pretty good and seemed to have adjusted just fine to his new identity; he was even flirting with the lady next door when I dropped by. The other guy, Jackson, he was having a bit more trouble with everything… I'm guessing losing his leg might have something to do with it. But he has a prosthetic now and could already move around on it by using a cane."

She allowed a smile on her face, showing the feelings of happiness and relief she'd been experiencing since reading the guys' messages. "That's great!"

"He, eh, told me he'd bought his counterpart's book."

"Oh?" Sam wondered why he was telling her that and at the same time she was curious as to what this other Daniel might have found without being recruited into the Stargate Program. It was only when Colonel O'Neill leaned forward and reached under her coffee table to retrieve a book that she realized the man really had made himself comfortable around her home. "What's that?"

"My copy of _The Truth about the Pyramids_ by Doctor Daniel Jackson," he replied as he handed the book over to her.

Interested in her best friend's counterpart's theories, she took it and smiled. "A real bargain I see," she muttered, looking at the seventy percent discount sticker. "Oh wow."

O'Neill chuckled at her gasp. "Yeah, not the most charming picture. To be fair, I think he looks a bit more crazed than your friend does."

"Thanks, I guess." Sam grinned softly, her eyes sliding over the picture on the back cover before they devoured the summary. "Is it any good?"

"The guy sounds like a real Erich von Däniken," he commented noncommittally, before he seemed to change his mind. "Of course, now that I've met you and your friends… well, I guess even Von Däniken's claims about extraterrestrial influences on early human culture might have merit."

She placed the book on the table and took a sip from her beer. "Daniel may have mentioned the man's theories being unfounded once or twice," she replied with a dismissive wave.

"Really?" The Colonel questioned, as he leaned forward to grab his beer. "I'm surprised that you guys even had time to read about him, what with all the traipsing around the galaxy and saving the planet numerous times…"

Sam automatically responded to his quirked smile with a wide one of her own, rolling her eyes at him in mild exasperation. "Actually, that was more of a work-related thing. Daniel and I are both workaholics and have been caught out at working on projects during our leave," she confessed with a slight blush.

"Aha! I was wondering if you even had time for a personal life but I guess that answers my question…"

She was chuckling softly before she realized what she was doing and quickly sobered; this wasn't the Jack she'd known and loved, but his counterpart with an entirely different life. A slightly different personality too it seemed, she told herself reminded of how he'd lied about not being married anymore. His personnel file had been updated to his reassignment here at McChord – no mention of his assignment though and she assumed it wasn't anywhere on record, perhaps with the exception of a few pieces of paper for the brass – and Sara O'Neill had still been listed as his wife. "My personal life is off-limits. After all, if your life is 'classified' then you should understand my reluctance to talk about mine."

"Okay, fair is fair, I guess," he muttered. His speculative glance at her gave her the impression he'd noticed the change in her demeanor but she didn't really care. "I still think you should lighten up a bit, Sam. Try and relax some more now that you don't have to save the world on a daily basis anymore."

"Maybe you're right," she conceded after a moment, seeing an opening but not wanting to appear too eager. "I've actually been thinking about something."

"Oh?"

Sam smiled shyly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "I thought maybe I could visit Las Vegas. Hit some casinos and maybe even make some money."

O'Neill's brows jumped up in response and he quickly dragged a hand through his hair, obviously not having foreseen this. "That's your idea of relaxing?"

"Well, all my other methods of unwinding are forbidden and unlike some things, like lounging on a beach or near a pool for days at end, this is still stimulating for my brain. I've lived in Nevada for a few months and visited sin city once or twice," she shared with him.

"This wouldn't happen to be some kind of covert attempt to go to Roswell or perhaps Area 51 and find the aliens, would it?" He quipped, before taking another swig of his beer.

Rolling her eyes, Sam let out a sigh, trying to sound disappointed. "Look, if Las Vegas isn't allowed because of that or because the chance of being recognized by all the people or security equipment is too high, then I guess Atlantic City would be okay too. Not as exciting, but it will do."

"I'll talk to my superiors and the OSI, and see what I can do," Colonel O'Neill replied after a moment of hesitation.

"Great, thanks," she beamed at him. Getting up from the sofa, she placed her beer on the coffee table and gestured towards the garage. "I'll walk you out and take my groceries from the car before they go bad. Don't forget your book," she added when he stood up.

O'Neill shrugged and handed it to her. "Keep it. I've already read it and you still have plenty of space on those bookshelves of yours."

Sam heard his footsteps behind her as she made her way over to her car. "I'll just open the garage door so you can leave."

"Nah, let me give you a hand with the groceries before I go. After all, it was kinda my fault that you left them in here and it would be a shame if some of your perishables… well, perished," he said with a small grin. Before she could refuse he'd pulled open the trunk and took one bag in his arms. "Ooh, Frooties. You really do have great taste in beer and food."

"Just give me that," she snapped, snatching the bag from him. It was getting harder and harder to separate him from the Jack O'Neill she'd known at moments like these and Sam knew it wasn't just because of them basically being the same person, but the fact that she still hadn't properly mourned for her Jack also played a role. The problem was that she had trouble letting him go. She didn't want to and if she was really lucky, she wouldn't have to if she could fulfill her problems to fix the timeline. It would just require some excellent timing and a big dose of some old fashioned good luck SG-1 had been known for. "Just go, Colonel. I'll take it from here."

"Okay, if you're sure… I'll let you know as soon as I hear something about your little trip to the casinos," he replied, before turning around and leaving.

Finally alone again, Sam carried the groceries inside and started unpacking them. She knew she'd taken a risk by suggesting Las Vegas first, but she doubted O'Neill, his superiors and the NID would really allow her anywhere near there. Even though he'd joked about it she suspected he was suspicious about the Asgard resembling the Roswell aliens and she knew from Daniel's message that he'd told the Colonel they'd met the highly advanced alien race. Offering Atlantic City – the actual destination she needed to go to – had been necessary and she could only hope he wouldn't see through her attempts at deception. To him and his government that city would probably be considered much safer even if it was further away.

Once she had unpacked everything she put the perishables in the fridge and the rest in the cabinets, saving the box of Frootees for last. With a sigh Sam reached into her cabinet, pulled out the unopened box of Frootees from her last grocery trip and replaced it with the new one. Spending all this time with Colonel O'Neill had left her unsettled, so she decided to forego dinner, take a hot bath and go to bed early. She took the unopened box with her and stored it with its cousins in the pantry, before heading into her bedroom. Normally when she was feeling this depressed and homesick back on Atlantis she'd watch _The Simpsons _to be close to Jack, sometimes even snacking on the sugary Frootloops if she was really feeling emotional, but that wasn't an option in this timeline. So, with a heavy heart she stepped into her en suite bathroom and let the bath fill up.


	12. Day Thirty Six of a New Life

**Day 36  
>O'Neill Residence<br>Winter Park, Colorado**

Jack awoke suddenly, a scream dying on his lips and he realized he was safely at home, in bed and not back in Iraq. His heart was still pounding in his chest and his lungs burning as he sucked in gulps of air. He hated these nightmares that brought him back to those awful four months in prison and made him relive every minute of it. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness in the bedroom he looked down at his body and found that his limbs were all tangled up in the sheets. No wonder he'd felt like he couldn't move as he was slowly asphyxiating! At least that meant he hadn't been able to lash out, he thought to himself as he glanced to the left and saw his wife all snuggled up in the comforter a few feet away, on the other side of the bed.

Groaning, he untangled himself from the clammy sheets and swung his leg over the edge of the mattress. With his elbows on his knees and head resting in his hands Jack tried to control his breathing and calm his racing heart. Not wanting to disturb Sara's sleep with more nightmares and possible violence on his side, he got up to grab some clean clothes and left the room. Every so often his nightmares would rear their ugly heads and this was the second time tonight, in the first he'd come home from his ordeal in Iraq only to find Tyler had shot himself! Obviously his conversations with Samantha Carter had buried themselves in his subconscious, which had apparently decided to plague him this night.

Unable to help himself, Jack quietly peeked into Tyler's room just to reassure himself his adult son really was all right and sound asleep. Satisfied, he closed the door with a sigh and went into the bathroom. The sheets on his side of the bed had been drenched in sweat as were his boxers and shirt, so he quickly discarded the clothing items in the hamper and turned on the shower. Now that he was awake, he was starting to shiver from the cold sweats; a shower could help warm him up again and maybe clear the cobwebs from his head. The warm water on his skin was a welcoming distraction from the nightmares and he finally allowed his body to relax somewhat. It wasn't just the horrible images and reliving the memories from his subconscious that wore him out, but also knowing that he sometimes turned violent, especially if Sara would try to wake or comfort him. Even though he knew he probably couldn't fall asleep again, he still pulled on the clean sweats after his quick shower and went into the guestroom.

It was less than half an hour of tossing and turning in the spare bed that Jack gave up on a few more hours of shuteye. He was too restless now; even if he could fall asleep he knew the nightmares would return again if he was in this state of mind. With a muffled groan he got up again and made his way downstairs. In the kitchen he started a pot of coffee and glanced out of the window into the backyard. It would be another hour or so before the sun would come up, so he decided to enjoy the twilight from the back porch. He usually ended up here if the nightmares kept him awake and more than once he'd contemplated getting himself a telescope to watch the stars at night. In the end he always decided against it, simply because he wasn't home that often – when he was he preferred to stay in bed in the middle of the night – and those things were expensive, especially if you had to support your kid going to college. Not to mention that he wouldn't know where to set it up and keep it when he wasn't using it, such sensitive and expensive equipment would need a safe place after all.

What he'd told Sam last week, about wanting to be an astronaut and stargazing as a kid hadn't been a lie and he truly enjoyed these quiet moments in the dead of night. Even for a man like him, who didn't really feel comfortable talking about or discussing feelings, it gave him the chance to reflect and ponder – the only thing more relaxing than stargazing was probably fishing. Right now his thoughts were occupied by Sam and his assignment. After his visit last week he'd reported his findings and her request to go gambling to his commanding officer, General Hammond, who'd subsequently told him to take some leave while he'd take it to the brass.

Surprisingly, Jack hadn't been as eager to go home as he'd expected and he knew that was because of the time he'd spent with Sam earlier; when he'd lied to her about being married. It had taken him quite a bit of effort to actually say the words aloud, even though he'd known from the moment he'd gotten this assignment what it entailed and might require. Still, he felt bad about the lie – even if it were just words and he hadn't actually acted on anything – and it had taken him a day or two before he'd finally managed to call Sara and tell her he'd gotten some leave. When he'd come home on Saturday his wife had greeted him as if he'd barely been gone a day, but Jack had had trouble looking her in the eye after his lie. He wasn't sure if it was guilt for the words he'd said or because he knew there could be a chance he'd actually have to act and betray his marriage vows.

Never in their twenty-eight years of marriage had he cheated on Sara, not even during their rough patches or when he was on abroad on a long-term mission where many of his teammates often forgot they had wives waiting for them at home. Not that he'd never been tempted and he certainly hadn't been a saint in his teens or early years of adulthood; during his first years in the service he'd had plenty of girls in different parts of the world, but only when he'd still been single. He and Sara had had an on-again, off-again relationship in the beginning, both not ready to fully commit with him being gone for weeks if not months at the time, but the moment they'd decided to go steady he'd stopped seeing others and had stayed loyal to her ever since.

When he'd first met her he'd liked her, but it wasn't until they'd started going steady that he could honestly say he'd fallen for her and then when he'd been in his late twenties he'd proposed. When she'd gotten pregnant a few years later they'd been very happy together, but again his long absences had put a strain on their marriage even by the time Tyler had come along. Even now their son was one of the few things they had in common and although he still loved her, their feelings had changed from being crazy in love to simply loving each other during the last thirty years.

Jack still wasn't sure if he could actually betray her by seducing Sam Carter, but he was hopeful it wouldn't come to that. They didn't know much about Sam and he found it hard to believe she hadn't been married or otherwise involved with someone in her own timeline; she probably wasn't even interested in the counterpart of her commanding officer and friend. It was something to ask her about if he could manage to steer one of their conversations in that direction without being too obvious, since she'd already made it clear she wasn't going to share anything about her personal life with him. Maybe once she'd returned from her gambling trip – because he had no doubt it would be approved, simply because the brass didn't want to risk alienating her any more than they already had just in case they were going to need her help in the future – she'd be more relaxed and he could cautiously inquire about it. Clear the air for his superiors once and for all and then he could just continue befriending her and winning her trust.

He briefly wondered if his superiors would expect him to accompany Sam to Las Vegas or Atlantic City – whichever it was going to be – and sighed loudly. It wasn't something he was looking forward to even though he was an excellent poker player. He could only hope that if he'd get the order it would be soon, so he could catch a plane from Denver instead of having to fly back to Rainier first and then take a plane to the casinos. Just because he'd joined the Air Force didn't mean he enjoyed flying all over the country in commercial planes, for crying out loud!

When the sun had risen Jack realized how long he'd been sitting on the porch and that he'd totally forgotten about the coffee, so he headed back inside and started on breakfast in the hopes his wife and son would join him sooner rather than later. He didn't like having such an empty house, filled with only furniture and silence. Jackson and Sam's words about Tyler's fate in their timeline popped up in his mind at the thought of a house filled with silence and he wondered how his counterpart had managed to cope with losing his son. What about the man's marriage, had it survived the loss of a child? He knew some marriages could, but when the boy shot himself with _his_ loaded 9 mil… Jack didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive himself if that had happened. It wasn't really a question about love; he loved Sara but he also knew that due to his work and long absences their marriage wasn't the strongest. He honestly couldn't say if they would have stayed together if Tyler had died as a child. It certainly gave a whole new meaning to "till death do us part", he thought cynically.

Thankfully, he would never be faced with such tragedy. Tyler was young, innocent and filled with a youthful enthusiasm; he was going to college and still had his whole life ahead of him! Suddenly Hank Landry's words – _w__ould you really trust someone else with your son's fate?_ – reverberated through his skull and Jack knew that he'd do anything to keep his boy safe, no matter what the personal cost for himself.

* * *

><p><strong>1451 hours<br>McChord AFB  
>Lakewood, Washington<strong>

The briefing had started almost an hour ago but it hadn't taken long before the Air Force and the NID were in disagreement so for the last twenty minutes or so Jack had been sitting at the table all by his lonesome. His CO, General Hammond had nearly turned red as General Kennedy and Colonel Maybourne from the NID had started bickering, so the old Texan had taken them to his temporary office next door. Jack was smart enough to know when his input wasn't needed and this had seemed one of those moments. He doubted the smarmy Maybourne actually had a say in all this, but the man hadn't let that – or the fact that Hammond was of higher rank – stop him from supporting his own CO, Kennedy, in the NID's standpoint regarding the trio, and Samantha Carter's life and usefulness specifically.

Jack usually didn't mind the opportunity to improve his doodling skills or simply the time to drift off without the risk of being caught and reprimanded in the middle of a meeting, but right now he was annoyed with the turn of events. After his restless night in which his sleep had been plagued by nightmares, he'd finally been enjoying breakfast with his family and then, just as Tyler had been regaling him with a story about some frat party his phone had rung and he'd been called back to base. Supposedly because a decision had been made about Sam's trip and with her basically being his charge, Jack had been ordered to attend and his leave was once again cut short.

Now though, it seemed as if an agreement was the last thing on everyone's mind. Interservice cooperation had always been difficult in the military, even more so when all services had their own agendas and purposes, and more often than not Jack simply ended up with a huge honkin' headache because of it. However, when it came to cooperating with the NID things got even harder; no one wanted to voluntarily work with the intelligence organization funded by the government to provide vital civilian oversight of top-secret military operations. Well, no one but Maybourne, Kennedy and Simmons, apparently. Jack figured the men simply enjoyed the power that came with their position since they could, theoretically speaking, shut down an entire military operation by giving a negative report to the Senate Oversight Committee, who could then stop or redirect their funding via the Senate Appropriations Committee – or at least that's how he understood it, he didn't have any personal experience with the NID's threats.

Jack was in the middle of yawning loudly when the door to the briefing room opened and a smug-looking Maybourne and Kennedy entered, followed by a seemingly still peeved Hammond and, to his surprise, Hank Landry! It had been over a month since he'd last seen the retired two-star and he wondered what had made him come back. Hadn't the man mentioned going back to Kim and his pleasant retirement? Not that he would have expected retirement to suit him, at least not in the long term. So maybe he shouldn't be surprised at all that Hank was back? But why and, more importantly, how? This was still a top-secret operation after all! Knowing the man he'd once called a friend, Jack figured that after his initial – and temporary – involvement Hank's curiosity was piqued and he'd probably pulled a few strings to find out what had happened to the strange trio he'd met.

Intent on ignoring the man unless he acknowledged him first – which no doubt would be with a "Jack" and maybe a smug nod – despite protocol, Jack turned to his CO, the man with the highest rank in the room and who'd just taken a seat at the table. "Sir?" he asked with raised brows and gestured in the vague direction of the door. "Have you come to a decision, regarding Sam Carter's request?"

"We have, Colonel O'Neill," Hammond said with a curt nod. "After conferring with President Hayes we have decided to grant her request on several conditions. The President has also informed us that General Landry will resume his advisory role in this operation for the foreseeable future."

"I'm very pleased to be able to offer you my assistance," Hank added with a smirk. "Nice to see you again, Jack."

"General Landry," Jack muttered as the man's smirk widened and his eyes nearly disappeared under his caterpillar-like eyebrows. "What are these conditions, Sir?"

Hammond looked towards General Kennedy, who grinned with self-importance and took over. "The NID and the Pentagon are uncomfortable with the idea of allowing Miss Carter to visit Las Vegas. Not only are the city and its casinos filled with people, cameras and very sophisticated technology it is also close to Nellis and the Nevada desert. Jackson already admitted they knew the Grey aliens and for all we know they have a way of contacting them via some technology stored there."

"It's what, a three-hour drive?" Jack questioned with furrowed brows. "Atlantic City is about two hours away from New York City."

"Ms Carter can't possibly know one of her teammates is situated there," Hank said dismissively.

Just as he was about to roll his eyes at that, his CO held up his hand. "That decision has been made by the higher ups, son. If she wants to go, then she can only go to Atlantic City."

"However," Maybourne quickly jumped in. "We can't afford to let her board an aircraft. There are too many people aboard who could recognize her during the flight, not to mention all the people and checkpoints at the airport itself."

"For all we know she might intend to hijack a plane," Hank added. "The woman would probably be resourceful enough to pull it off."

"The OSI won't allow it on their budget either, nor will they be able to send her handlers to protect her properly," Kennedy muttered with a dark scowl.

Jack pensively pursed his lips and glanced from one general to another until he reached Hammond. "Sir, what are you saying, exactly?"

"The only way Ms Carter is allowed to go anywhere is by car and you will have to accompany her, Colonel," he replied, sounding slightly dejected.

Apparently this was one of the things the man had disagreed on with the NID and Jack could totally understand why! It would take _days_ to get there by car! "Oh for crying out loud, Sir-"

"It's not up for discussion, Jack," Maybourne interrupted him smugly.

Sighing, he tried to appeal to his commanding officer again. "With all due respect, Sir, I really don't think that's a good idea."

"I know, son, but unfortunately those are the conditions," Hammond said calmly.

"Think of it this way, Jack," Hank said cheerfully with his brows nearly reaching his hairline. "Now you'll have all the time to get to know Ms Carter better and perhaps further your relationship."

"That will be all, gentlemen," General Hammond announced before anyone could make a peep. "Colonel O'Neill, a word please? The rest of you are dismissed."

Jack wondered what he'd done to deserve a private chat with his CO as the others, all still smirking, left the room and closed the door behind them. Surely he hadn't been _that_ disrespectful? He'd certainly gotten away with a lot more with other superior officers, so he just remained seated and turned his chair to the General, who was standing on the other side of the room. "Sir?"

"Let's go to my office, Colonel."

He mutely followed the bald man and took a seat in one of the visitor chairs in front of the desk when he was told to do so. To his surprise, Hammond sat down in the chair next to him instead of behind his desk. "With all due respect, General, I don't have the slightest clue what this is about." Jack cringed slightly at his tone of voice, realizing that he didn't actually sound very respectful. That might not have been the smartest thing to say if he was already in trouble for something, say, disrespectful behavior.

"I just felt this could best be discussed in private, son," Hammond said with a small smile.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Sir."

The man rubbed a hand over his bald head and leaned back in his chair with a deep sigh. He was silent for a moment, seemingly deep in thought before he started speaking again. "As you have probably already noticed, I don't agree with the NID's view on certain matters. Not just today, but in general. Hell, I've never been fond of those bureaucrats, let alone fellow Air Force members collaborating with them."

Jack nodded slowly, not wanting to interrupt his CO until he knew what this was about. When he felt the man's eyes on him though, he shrugged. "Yeah, I assumed as much earlier today."

"Off the record, Jack?"

To say he was surprised by the man using his first name was an understatement so Jack just waited and settled into his chair a bit more comfortably. "Of course."

"You and Hank Landry have known each other for a few years, right?"

"Yes, Sir."

Hammond rubbed his chin pensively before he continued. "It's not a coincident the President has reassigned him to this operation."

"Knowing Hank, he probably requested it after being bored with retirement," Jack speculated.

"The man called in a few markers to get here," Hammond affirmed to his surprise. "But the only reason President Hayes approved his advisory position is because he knows Hank will do what is necessary to obtain the information they want."

He shrugged, for once unsurprised since this little talk. "Hank never had a problem with getting his hands dirty…"

"There are certain things… certain lines that shouldn't be crossed."

"Are you talking about assignments and orders in general or this whole situation with the trio from the alternate timeline?" Jack questioned, his curiosity piqued. Perhaps he'd misjudged the man in that first meeting. It sounded like he actually had a good dose of common sense and perhaps there was still some honor and integrity left in him.

General Hammond sighed and straightened in his chair. "Both, I guess," he replied with a faint smile. "I meant it the first time I said it, Jack; we've all been forced to do some damn distasteful things in service of our country. However, that doesn't mean I necessarily agree with the course this operation is taking."

"From what I understand you and the President go way back, Sir," he said with a small frown.

"We knew each other when we were both lieutenants and still had our natural hair color – or in my case, any hair," he confirmed.

Jack chuckled along with him; he just couldn't imagine the man with a head of hair. "So, if you don't mind me asking, Sir…"

Hammond nodded slowly and continued with his explanation. "Because of our shared history the President is aware of certain, eh, issues I have with your assignment in regards to Samantha Carter."

"Because you knew Mission Commander Samantha Carter?"

"What makes you say that, son?"

Seeing genuine confusion on the man's face, he shrugged. "Well, Sir, you're from Texas and the Mission Commander was living near NASA's Johnson Space Center in Houston. Her father is Air Force too, same rank as yours."

"I don't know what to tell you, Colonel; Texas is pretty big," Hammond shook his head gently in mirth. "It's true that I've met the Mission Commander's father a few times at Air Force gatherings, though and apparently we both served in 'Nam, but who of my generation hasn't?"

Jack dragged a hand through his hair and tried to figure out what it could be then. "Then what is it, Sir?"

General Hammond was quiet for a moment, pensively staring at something on the desk that Jack couldn't see from his vantage point. "Did you know I've been married for over forty years, son?" He didn't wait for a reply and simply continued as if he was alone and musing aloud. "My wife, Mary, is looking forward to my retirement next year so we can spend more time with our grandchildren and I've got to admit it's looking pretty damn good to me too, right about now! I almost lost my Mary about fifteen years ago to cancer, a horrible disease, but she pulled through and I've cherished every day with her since."

He could tell from the older man's sappy smile that he was being sincere. "Understandable, Sir."

"How long have you been married?"

"Almost thirty years," Jack replied.

His CO nodded pensively as he absentmindedly rubbed his wedding band. "And you have a son, right?" Hammond gave him a quick onceover and sighed. "I could tell from our first meeting that you're an honorable man, Jack, despite the black marks on your file. There are men in the service with far less scruples and I'm inclined to say Hank Landry and the NID fall into that category. Unfortunately for you, their methods will bring the quick results the higher ups need and they're the ones in charge."

Jack wasn't sure how to reply to that; he had no doubt about Kennedy and Maybourne, and he'd seen with his own two eyes that Hank certainly didn't take his marriage vows too seriously and he knew it was one of the reasons the man had almost lost his family in a divorce years ago. "What are you trying to say, Sir?"

"I'm trying to tell you, son, that you have got to be the unluckiest bastard I've ever met. I've tried to reason with the brass, I even visited the President to discuss your assignment before we told you about it. There is nothing I can do to make this easier for you and I guess I just wanted to give you a heads-up that with Hank and the NID involved in this operation, it won't be long until they expect results from you," Hammond concluded with a serious expression. "My health is also declining and with retirement just around the corner… well, let's just say I don't know how long the President will keep me in charge."

"Ah, crap," Jack muttered.

* * *

><p><strong>1615 hours<br>Liddell Residence  
>Rainier, Washington<strong>

Sam was lounging in her backyard, enjoying the last rays of the sun on her skin. It had been a long time since she'd been sunbathing and the only thing that came close was probably fishing at the cabin with Jack. That thought brought back some happy memories. It had been too long since she'd been there, though. They'd planned to go there for some leave after her evaluation by the IOA, fully expecting her to have to go back to Atlantis after a week or so. Well, maybe he had known that wasn't going to happen and simply hadn't told her yet because it was classified and he could hardly tell her over the monitored calls to the Pegasus Galaxy. Either way, it hadn't happened because she'd been relieved of her duty – rather publicly – and Jack had already been on the Tok'ra planet for Ba'al's extraction, which she'd gone to attend a few days later. That's when it had all gone wrong…

Frowning at the memory of Jack's lifeless eyes, Sam blinked and tried to shake off the thought. She had to focus on the good things! It would probably be a few more weeks, or months even, but if she succeeded in her plan to restore the timeline she'd be reunited with Jack, just in time to stop the terrible event that had cost him his life.

Earlier this morning, she had gone over to Olympia and had done some more research now that one of the books she'd requested had come in. So she had double-checked all the mental notes she'd made to herself and had looked up some historical and astrological data she was going to need for when her marine salvaging company was up and running. She'd also gotten an email from Ben Jones, her business administrator, who had told her everything was more or less ready and now all Sam had to do was get the funding and hire the right people – including Daniel or Charles Dodgson, she should say. All she was waiting for right now was the green light to go to Atlantic City – she was really hoping the government wouldn't allow her to go to Nevada – so she could get started on getting the money for Therra's company, then she could start hiring people and get the right equipment. After that, one of the few things she would have to make her own UTD to be able to detect naquadah. She hadn't really figured out when and where she was going to do that, but right now the money issue was the most pressing.

Sam startled at the sound of her cell phone ringing and she quickly sat up, looking around for where she'd left it. When she finally got it she looked at the number before answering, noticing it was from an extension at McChord Air Force base. "Hello?"

"_Hey Sam, it's me, eh, Jack… O'Neill_," came the hesitant reply.

Her heart nearly skipped a beat at the familiar sound of his voice but then she quietly berated herself. "Eh," she awkwardly cleared her throat and tried to calm her racing heart by reminding herself this wasn't her Jack. "Hi, Colonel O'Neill."

"_I've just come from a meeting and wanted to let you know that your request was approved_."

Beaming with joy, she grinned at nothing in particular. "I'm glad to hear it, Colonel." She had to make sure she didn't sound too eager as she asked her next question. "So, which city will it be?"

"_I'm sorry, but Las Vegas is out_," he replied, making her grin even wider. _"You're allowed to go to Atlantic City."_

"Well, I guess that will just have to do then," she mumbled, trying to dampen her enthusiasm. It was almost too good to be true! Luckily for her they'd fallen for her ruse and now she'd be going to Atlantic City to make money and find a proper HQ for Therra's company that was close enough to Daniel's!

"_There are two conditions, though_," O'Neill added with clear disdain in his voice.

Sam briefly wondered what could cause him to sound so depressed over her trip. "Which are?"

"_You're not allowed to board an aircraft. As a matter of fact,_" he said as if just remembering, _"the brass would prefer not to have you anywhere near an airport."_

"Oh, well, that's all right. I mean, I don't have a job yet so I could just make a road trip out of it." Then, recalling is earlier words, she asked her next question. "What's the other condition?"

A deep sigh sounded over the phone, one he apparently not even bothered to try and hide, before he answered. "_I have to accompany you_."

"What?"

"_You heard me, Sam. I'll be joining you on that road trip_," O'Neill confirmed with a fake cheery voice.

Sam swallowed hard, her mind racing light-years a minute. She hadn't foreseen this. Obviously the government would be remiss in their duty to save their timeline from her if they'd let her fly over there; something she'd expected. As a matter of fact, she'd been counting on that road trip, already having planned out her first stop. However, she had assumed they'd let her go on her way with another NID tail on her! Never had she expected them to saddle her with O'Neill! Of course, it made sense they'd have someone watch her closely once she got in Atlantic City, but on the way over there too? They could just as easily follow her car!

"Oh," was all she could utter in her surprise.

"_You can say that again_," he muttered under his breath, but still audible enough for her to hear. "_Well, I'll be over in a few days to talk it all over with you. O'Neill out."_

Not bothering to reply, she disconnected and stared unseeingly into the garden. Obviously he was as bothered by this as she was. Or at least that's probably what he thought, because Sam was pretty sure she would have more problems with having the counterpart of her dead husband around her twenty-four seven than he'd be experiencing with her as company. She hadn't calculated everything in detail yet but she'd been counting on being gone for about two weeks. Stuck for two weeks with Colonel O'Neill!

Maybe she should have expected it though, considering his weekly visits. Sam knew he hadn't been telling her the whole truth in the beginning, about being assigned to keep an eye on her since she already had her OSI handlers for that and he was overqualified to be her babysitter. His behavior seemed to indicate he was trying to befriend her, maybe gain her trust so she would foolishly tell him everything he needed to know and more about the Stargate and all the alien technology, she presumed. She really didn't want to consider the other option that had been nagging at her lately, especially since he'd lied about being married…

Maybourne was involved in all this after all, she'd seen him when they'd kept her in custody and he'd tried to interrogate her before he knew she was very aware of who he was. That meant the NID or a similar organization was probably pulling some of the strings, together with the Air Force perhaps, considering the NID tail she'd gotten and Colonel O'Neill's involvement. The NID was capable of many things in her timeline, she'd learned that soon enough when they'd started interfering with the Stargate and trying to take custody of aliens and even herself when she'd been Tok'ra-ed by Jolinar. They were devious and perhaps even desperate enough to try something like that… It was clear to her though that they nor O'Neill were aware of her relationship with his counterpart and she had to make sure it stayed that way otherwise she and her plans for restoring the timeline were doomed.


	13. Day Forty of a New Life

**Day 40  
>Liddell Residence<br>Rainier, Washington**

It was just past noon and the bright sun had almost reached its highest point above the horizon when Jack stepped out of the military vehicle he'd borrowed from base. Spotting a nosy neighbor across the street from behind his sunglasses he politely nodded before he walked up Sam's driveway. Her car wasn't there but he'd already learned she usually parked it in the garage when she was home and he hadn't heard anything from the NID tail on her about any trips today, so he figured she was home. When he'd walked up the porch and rang the bell though, no one seemed to answer. He even stepped over to the window to peer inside but there didn't seem to be any movement inside. Annoyed, he banged on the door and called out Sam's alias. After two full minutes he decided a different approach was necessary, so he walked around the side of the house to check the back. Perhaps she was tending to her non-existent garden or just relaxing on a lounger. He couldn't really imagine her sunbathing though, figuring she was far too restless for something like that.

By the time he found the back was also devoid of people, Jack checked the inside again via the windows. The curtains weren't pulled in her bedroom so he at least knew she wasn't sleeping the morning away, not that she seemed the type. For a moment he thought about his key to the house but he really didn't want to sneak in when there was the possibility she was inside or could come home any minute. Sighing, he pulled out his cell phone as he walked back to the front porch and called her landline. When she didn't answer he tried her cell phone, only for it to go to voicemail. Now he was getting a bit worried and looked up the number of Colonel Simmons, to check in with him about her surveillance.

As the phone rang he sat down on the porch steps, grateful for the trees at the end of the lawn hiding him from the nosy neighbor's view, who would undoubtedly be suspicious of him loitering around the house. Jack made himself comfortable by stretching out his jean-clad legs, his fingers impatiently tapping on the wood as he waited for the phone on the other end to be picked up. Once Simmons answered he inquired about Sam's whereabouts only to be put on hold so the man could check with his people. After another five minutes he was finally told that she'd gone out for a run over half an hour ago and that his men were still tailing her, albeit from a distance.

Cursing his bad timing, Jack hung up and contemplated waiting outside versus going into her home. He assumed she would probably think he'd be intruding on her privacy if she found him inside, so he remained seated and hoped she'd be back soon. How long could she be gone, really? Sam was what, in her late thirties? So to meet her fitness test requirements she'd probably have a little over sixteen minutes for a mile and a half run… He was hoping she wouldn't go further than five miles, which would mean she could be back any minute now.

It reminded him that it had been a while since he'd gone out running, which was a bit unusual for him since he had to stay in shape for the training exercises he organized. Normally he'd fit it into his schedule in between or sometimes even during his training assignments but lately he'd been stuck at base, visiting here or flying half way across the country. Jack was already making a mental note to get started again when he recalled it would be of no use; he had the road trip with Sam coming up! Even if they would alternate driving duties every few hours it would still take them a couple of days to get to Atlantic City and he had no idea how long she intended to stay there! Was it wrong to hope she'd run out of money and luck soon, like in a day or two? With her brains though she'd probably make a small fortune, he thought to himself. She didn't seem like the greedy type and hadn't she mentioned it was her way to relax and have some fun? Hopefully that meant they wouldn't be gone longer than two weeks…

Tyler had asked him the other day if they'd go back to the cabin this summer, perhaps a week or more instead of a long weekend and at first Jack had agreed. But after his last meeting and his talk with General Hammond he wasn't sure if that would be best. His CO had made it pretty clear that even though he was in his corner there wasn't much Hammond could do for Jack since the higher ups expected results, and soon. So maybe it would be better for him to distance himself a bit from his family, take a step back while he'd continue furthering his relationship with Sam. Perhaps he and Tyler could spend some time together at the cabin, but he wasn't sure he could actually be around his wife without feeling guilty about what he might have to do. Last weekend had been hard enough already. He'd already had a run-in with Hank earlier this morning, who'd once more encouraged him to increase his efforts with his charge and Jack didn't have be a mind reader to know what the NID's position on all this was – they'd made that perfectly clear.

Just as he was debating moving from the porch – it wasn't doing his back or his six any favors – and maybe stretching out on the grassy lawn, Jack heard the steady footfall of a runner before Sam Carter appeared from behind the trees and bushes shielding the yard from the street. He quirked up his eyebrows when she slowed halfway up the driveway, squinting against the sun as she cautiously came closer to the house – and thus him. He gave her a quick onceover, noticing her running shoes, sweaty clothes, the stainless steel water bottle strapped to her hip and the black cap shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight and covering her blond locks. Unsure what to call her – Sam or Alice – outside in front of her house where possible passersby could overhear them and knowing she didn't like her alias, he settled for a small smile and a soft "Hey".

"Colonel," she greeted as she stood in front of him, sounding a bit breathless. "How long have you been sitting here?"

Jack shrugged and glanced at his watch. "Dunno, about twenty minutes or so, I guess. I figured you'd be back sooner or later from wherever you were." He grinned at her flushed face, unsure if it was just from the physical exercise or because he'd been waiting for her and got up, dusting off his legs and backside. "Nice day for a walk."

"A walk?" Sam snorted, shaking her head. Her breathing was still a bit faster than usual, but she seemed to recuperate fast. "If I had known you were coming over today…"

"Yeah well," he mumbled noncommittally. He wasn't sure she _would_ have actually stayed in if he'd called ahead but at least she still hadn't asked him what he was doing here, which had been her greeting most of the time. Score! As a matter of fact, she didn't even seem to be annoyed with his presence. Perhaps he'd been right in his assumption that they'd gotten along better the last time he was here. She certainly appeared to have mellowed a bit towards him. "I told you on the phone I'd drop by to discuss our upcoming road trip."

"You didn't say when," she countered as she stretched her lithe frame.

Jack nodded, wordlessly agreeing with her. He watched as she pulled her cap off, brushed some sweat from her forehead and continued with what he presumed was her cool down. It was the first time he noticed she wasn't wearing any make up, or at least nothing he could spot and he nodded in appreciation – she obviously wasn't very vain but at the same time she didn't really need it either. His eyes raked over her outfit again and, seeing how her sweaty tank top was clinging to her skin, realized she'd probably prefer to get out of her clothes and perhaps jump in the shower. From what Simmons had told him she'd been gone for about an hour or so, so it must have been an intense workout to leave her sweaty and slightly out of breath. "So, you seem to have gotten quite a workout," he vaguely gestured at her outfit and was surprised to see her blush. "How much distance did you cover?"

Sam shrugged and took off the strap holding her water bottle as she walked past him, up the porch. "I was going for ten miles but luckily for you it ended up being less, otherwise you would have been waiting even longer."

"Ten miles," he whistled. "Impressive." That meant she really was quite fit, even if she hadn't run the full ten in an hour. Jack followed her up the porch and waited until she'd unlocked the door and went inside.

"I'm not that familiar yet with the town so I had to pick a route that was just under the ten miles," she explained as she walked into the living room. "Look, if you don't mind I'll just freshen up."

"That's okay, go ahead take a shower. I'll just wait here," he added with a smirk as he plopped down on the couch. "That way we can go over the planning afterwards."

She seemed to be contemplating something as she stood there in the middle of the room staring at him. Finally, she apparently came to a conclusion and let out a sigh. "You know, it's really not necessary for you to come with me. I mean, it's going to take a few days to get there by car and I'm sure you have other things to do."

"Yeah well, nothing we can do about that," Jack said dismissively.

"You could just fly out to Atlantic City and meet me there if your presence is needed during my stay," Sam offered. "That way you can spend the other days with your son. He's home for the summer vacation right? I've already taken more than enough of your time and I'm sure this wasn't what he had in mind when he came home from college."

He narrowed his eyes at her, annoyed that she'd brought up Tyler again after he'd made it pretty clear his son and personal life was off-limits. It seemed she wanted to get out of spending time with him as much as he did and for some strange reason that actually reassured Jack somewhat. He knew he probably shouldn't feel that way considering what the NID and his superiors wanted him to do, but he couldn't help it. "Look Sam, you wanted to go to the casinos and the government will only let you under two conditions; you go by car and I accompany you. There's nothing either of us can do about it."

"I… I guess," she finally uttered, although he suspected she'd initially wanted to say something else. "I'll be right back."

"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere," Jack muttered as she walked away from him. For a brief moment his eyes lingered on her swaying hips, acknowledging to himself that she was indeed an attractive woman before they moved up, instead focusing on her swinging ponytail as she disappeared down the hall to her bedroom.

* * *

><p>Sam quickly shut the en suite bathroom door behind her and leaned her back against it. Her heart was still pounding and her breathing wasn't back to normal yet; she knew it had nothing to do with her physical exercise but everything to do with Colonel Jack O'Neill. She honestly hadn't expected him to show up today and had been more than surprised to find him almost lounging casually on the steps of her porch. The picture had been a familiar one, only he was usually seated in a chair with a beer in hand on his back porch in Colorado Springs on a team night after charring the meat or stretched out on the dock at the cabin in Minnesota with a fishing pole in one hand and a beer in the other. It was such a contrast from the last image of her Jack back on the planet that it was heartbreakingly painful and at the same time oh so very welcome.<p>

Logically she knew he wasn't her Jack, a lot of things like his behavior towards her – cautious, testing, wondering, distrusting, befriending, tentative – his lack of knowledge about the SGC, the past ten years of her life, her character in general and some changes in his own personality as well as some physical changes all screamed at her that they were two different men. Or more like two different versions of the same man. Their experiences and people in their lives had formed both men and since those were slightly different at some points, so were the two Jack O'Neills. It was simple really, especially for someone of her intelligence. Sam even knew what the fundamental differences were that had shaped them; she could list them from the top of her head because she knew them by heart. And _that_ was really the problem. Logically, in her head she knew, her brain was very aware of it.

But her heart was another matter entirely. It reacted the same to his voice and seeing him when she got back from her run made her heart skip a beat. Her heart rate had increased, her pulse quickening and her breathing, which she'd had under control despite the strenuous activity, had hitched before it had become slightly labored. Feeling his eyes rake her body had affected her even though she was pretty sure he hadn't meant it in a sexual way, but his aviator sunglasses had shielded those dark orbs and unscarred eyebrows from her and instead her mind had replaced them with the adoring or even mischievous look her Jack's eyes held as they rested on her and they'd supplied the image of his scarred eyebrow quirked up to go with that shy smile of his.

Groaning with frustration Sam pushed herself from the door and bent over to untie her shoelaces. The thought of Colonel O'Neill being alone in her living room while she took a shower unnerved her for the same reason his presence had thrown her off earlier so she decided, as she kicked off her sneakers, to lock the bathroom door before she stripped. Not because she didn't trust him, despite the suspicions she'd been having lately about his _real_ assignment, but because it reassured her somehow. Within a minute she'd pulled off her slightly damp socks, peeled her sweaty workout clothes off and discarded her sports bra and panties, and turned on the shower. The steam from the warm water alone made her shiver and realize how much her skin had cooled off since her actual run.

She stepped under the shower and let her hair get soaked, which took much longer than it used to because of its current length, before she reached for the shampoo. After rinsing her hair she grabbed her shower gel and lathered up, making sure to massage the muscles that were already aching from her workout. It had been a while since she'd gone running and ever since Adrian Conrad had had her abducted she preferred to work out indoors, unless she went running with someone. As a matter of fact, she usually only went running two or three times a week depending on her mission schedule because she knew she'd probably be doing a lot of running off-world too. She'd been on SG-1 after all, the team that found trouble when they weren't even looking.

Since her promotion and subsequent reassignment to Atlantis she'd done most of her running in the beautiful city. Well, before she'd broken her leg that was. Since then she hadn't been doing much of anything except keeping up her muscle tone with weights in the gym and some standard exercises. There had only been a few days between relieve of her command and the fateful extraction ceremony, which had led her here. In the past few weeks she'd made the necessary adjustments to her house, which had been a workout in its own at times, and had turned the storage room in the garage into a small gym of her own. There was some equipment – cardio and weights mostly – and she'd been doing a lot of boxing too, a great way to vent her anger and frustrations. But it also meant being cooped up inside and with limiting her trips to Olympia she'd hardly had a real reason to go out, so she'd decided to pick up her running again. There was no need to fear for abductions or anything here with the NID tail following her everywhere she went whenever she ventured outside and it had been a beautiful day.

Letting out a soft moan as the shower loosened some of her muscles, Sam enjoyed the hot spray for two more minutes after rinsing her body before she turned it off. She reached for two towels, wrapping one around her head to dry her hair and keep it out of her face and neck and the other around her body. Making quick work of her usual routine, she was back in her bedroom dressed and her hair combed back seven minutes later.

Sam took a fortifying breath before she opened the door to the hall, wondering how she'd find Colonel O'Neill this time around after how he'd made himself at home the last time. The smell emanating from the kitchen hit her first, even before she could check out the couch where she'd left him. "Colonel O'Neill?" She called out in a hesitant voice as she made her way over to the open kitchen.

"Hey Sam," he greeted with a shy smile. "Had a nice shower?"

"Um, yeah," she nodded hesitantly, noticing the onceover he gave her. "What are you doing?"

O'Neill picked the frying pan up and showed her its content before placing it back on the stove. "Lunch is almost done. I thought you might be hungry after your run."

Narrowing her eyes at him, Sam shrugged minutely. She hadn't been very hungry lately but the omelets smelled great. Her eyes quickly scanned the rest of the counters from her position on the other side of the kitchen island and she frowned when they spotted a box of Frootees. "What are those doing here?"

"Oh, I wasn't sure if you were in the mood or even liked omelets so I pulled those out of the cabinet just in case. I know they're supposed to be breakfast cereal, but you can eat them all day," he concluded with an eyebrow waggle.

"Omelets will be fine."

He watched her as she put the box back, she could feel his eyes burning in her back, and turned off the stove. "Lunch is ready. Do you want coffee, diet soda or something else with it?"

Sam quickly pulled two beers out of the fridge and walked over to the backdoor. "We can eat outside on the porch," she told him, before slipping out. The familiarity of Jack O'Neill in her kitchen, making his famous omelets – although she was pretty sure these ones didn't include beer – for her in combination with her earlier disturbing thoughts about this man, were confusing the hell out of her and the last thing she needed was for it to be recorded by the surveillance cameras in her house. She was already seated, sipping her beer, when he came out with two plates and set them on the small table. "Thanks," she murmured.

"Yeah sure you betcha," Colonel O'Neill replied with a grin as he too sat down. "Ooh, beer."

"You can have something else if you want," she retorted but he'd already opened his.

He took a bite of his food and guzzled it down with some beer. "Nah, beer and omelets are a great combination! Especially on a hot summer day like this," he added with appreciation.

She simply nodded her agreement, not wanting to think about the similarities – or differences – between him and her Jack and focused on her lunch instead. It tasted great, just like she'd expected. Which somehow made it even worse. Frustrated with herself and the situation Sam tried to clear her head and her plate in silence.

"Wow, I guess you really were hungry, huh?" O'Neill questioned with a lopsided grin, his eyes going to her empty plate just as he was finishing up the last of his food.

Deciding to treat it as a rhetoric question and to change the subject, Sam steered the conversation towards their upcoming – and much dreaded – trip to Atlantic City. "I'm not sure what you had in mind but I'd already done some tentative planning." She just hadn't expected he was going to join her! Before her shower she'd even been tempted to tell him he could sit this trip out and send someone else, maybe even her OSI handlers, with her but she'd quickly realized he was going no matter what and it might only arouse his suspicions if she kept going on about it.

"Well, obviously we're going by car," he started, rolling his eyes. No doubt already miserable at the prospect – she couldn't blame him. "But I'm not sure your Prius is the best choice."

"Maybe we could lease a car."

"I'll look into it."

Sam slowly nodded, understanding that he'd probably ask his superiors or the NID about it. No doubt they'd make sure to get them a nice car with a tracking device that could easily be followed. "What about a date? I figured we'd be gone for about two weeks. I'm not sure how long I want to stay in Atlantic City." That wasn't true; she'd already decided she'd stay a few days at the most. The marine salvaging company needed an office for their headquarters and New Jersey was the best option, so she'd already told her secretary Melinda to look into that and fly over there to check out the most promising buildings even before she herself would arrive there. Sam wasn't sure yet how she was going to sneak out long enough to do so, but she knew she could figure something out to get away from O'Neill for a few hours. All that plus the money she needed were the reasons she couldn't stay long. She roughly knew how much she was going to need for all expenses and was aware that she'd had to play her part in the casinos convincingly not to be accused of cheating or something like that.

"It also depends on how long it'll take to get there," O'Neill mused aloud.

"I don't know about you but I'd rather drive for hours on end, grab a bite to eat and catch a few hours of shuteye before hitting the road again, instead of driving a few hours a day and taking forever to get there."

He bobbed his head in agreement, a pensive look on his face. "Between the two of us we'd be able to drive at least ten hours a day, probably more."

"Yes, depending on that I thought we could stop in Montana first," Sam elaborated. If they couldn't pass more than ten hours she figured they could stop near Butte and otherwise they might be able to reach Billings, which was a little more than three hours further down the road. Either location would work for her.

"From Montana through Dakota and then stay in Minnesota," O'Neill suggested. "Through Wisconsin and Illinois, perhaps spend the night in Chicago or, depending on how many hours we drive each day, we might be able to enter Ohio first."

On one hand she was surprised they were thinking along the same lines and on the other hand she wasn't; this was a Jack O'Neill after all. They both had a military mind and she had no doubt he'd treat this the same as any mission. "From Ohio we might be able to reach Atlantic City in one day."

"Yeah, it all depends on what time we can make each day. Then we can stay in the city until you run out of luck or money and head back after a few days," the Colonel said wryly. "I'll need the rest of this weekend to wrap up some things and then I'll pack for the trip. I'll have to inquire about transportation and some other things, but I think we might be able to leave on Monday or Tuesday."

Sam beamed at him, happy at the prospect even if it meant spending more time with him in an enclosed space. "Great! That leaves me enough time to get some stuff out of the way too." She still hadn't decided on what to take with her; at first she'd been pretty sure but when she'd heard he was going to be escorting her, she knew she'd have to change the contents of her bag in case he'd decide to snoop through it. The risk of him finding something crucial in it was simply unacceptable. But it meant she'd have to be more careful and creative. She also had to double-check some coordinates in Montana on her second laptop in Olympia because she obviously couldn't take a GPS tracking device with her to find them now. Using her cell phone for it was too dangerous as well considering where that one came from.

"I guess I should be going then," O'Neill announced as he got up. "Thanks for the lunch and beer."

"Sure," she replied with a smile. As she walked him through the house and out the front door she realized she'd been close to saying 'anytime', which was such a _bad_ idea. Another thing she couldn't risk losing; her self-control, or worse, her heart. She worried about how the trip might affect her seeing how she was already having to remind herself he wasn't the man she loved. He was just his counterpart. His married counterpart, who still had his son. A Jack O'Neill who didn't know her or any of her friends, and who wouldn't allow her to restore the timeline. Sam was very aware though that she had to be extremely careful, because today she'd realized that she had actually been looking forward to his visit and had been pleased to see him again. That wasn't good because she knew he'd use it against her if he had to, since he had his son to protect.


	14. Day Forty Three of a New Life

**Day 43  
>I-90 E<br>Washington**

It was past noon and the sun was high at the sky as they drove the last few miles through Washington State and Sam was bored. The view hadn't really changed much the last five hours – O'Neill had picked her up at 0700 hours sharp – and even though she knew everyone at the SGC and Atlantis would always joke about how you could hardly tell the difference between other planets and some of the places back home, she still suspected she might have been spoiled with seeing so much off-world in several galaxies that the Evergreen state simply couldn't hold her attention. Maybe Jack had been right all along; trees are boring.

She'd almost made a joke about it but then she had reminded herself she didn't really know this O'Neill. Maybe he wouldn't even get it. Even though she'd come to the realization he wasn't the same as her Jack a long time ago and had been telling herself that all day Saturday after he'd left, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about his voice when he'd called yesterday telling her they were leaving today and that she'd better be ready when he'd be at her house. God, she'd even felt a weak flutter in her stomach when he'd drove up her driveway this morning and greeted her with that lopsided grin of his. And she knew it wasn't because of the SUV he'd been sitting in, no matter how nice looking it was. So she'd decided to ignore him mostly and he'd seemed to be okay with that.

It had been a long and silent drive so far. They hadn't been able to find a music station either could tolerate, let alone like, so the radio had been turned off as well. Every now and then Sam would risk a glance in his direction, hoping her sunglasses and awkward position against the passenger door would mask her interest in him. She wasn't sure if she was really that good or if he was simply ignoring her too, because he hadn't reacted by looking back at her – unlike her Jack or even one of the guys would have gone with a smile – or even flinching. If it wasn't for the small movement of his chest and the occasional blinking of eyes, she could have sworn he was a statue. Of course there had been some shifting and steering where he'd been forced to move, but she was good at anticipating those moves so she'd make sure not to look at him at those moments. Then she'd steal a brief glimpse again; she couldn't watch him too long though, not just because he might catch her but because his profile was so familiar it hurt.

Now though, she was getting hungry. It was lunchtime. It didn't matter that she'd hardly done anything but shift in her seat since leaving the house, her body still demanded food despite the lack of burning her usual calories. Sam cleared her throat before speaking up, almost wincing at the loud sound in the silent car. "Um, Colonel? I was wondering if you were getting hungry, because we could grab something to eat in Spokane. It's just up ahead if I'm not mistaken," she added with a glance at the map in her lap.

"Sure," he replied after a beat, looking at her for the first time since leaving Rainier. "I can eat."

Sam shot him a thankful smile and rattled off instructions, even though she knew he could just follow the traffic signs. Breaking the silence felt good after so many hours and it definitely made the prospect of another six to eight hours look better. She knew she wasn't terrible at making small talk, although she preferred talking about something that truly interested her but that wasn't likely to happen without other astrophysicists or even scientists around. The problem with this man, though, was that small talk came easy to her. Too easy for someone she didn't really know.

When she'd first realized her feelings for her Jack she'd always kind of wondered about whether it would ever work between even if they _could_ have a relationship. They didn't have a lot in common and most of the time he didn't seem to be hearing a word she was talking about, but the more they'd worked together and the better they'd gotten to know each other – also outside of work at team nights or just conversations about hobbies or interests – the better matched they'd seemed. She'd been proven right when they'd finally gotten together upon his reassignment to Washington DC and hers to Area 51.

They could talk about anything and right now, that was causing a problem for her. She had gotten too used to him that not only was it hard to live without her Jack, it might even be harder living with his counterpart around. Sam had a reputation of getting carried away when talking about her doohickeys or science in general and she had the same tendencies with her Jack. The problematic part about that was that if she were to close her eyes as this O'Neill and her were talking, she could just imagine he was the man she loved and float away on her pink cloud.

"If you want," that familiar voice intruded on her private thoughts, "you can take the wheel after lunch. I'm assuming you can drive a stick?"

"Of course I can," Sam bristled slightly. She scowled at him as he took the exit she'd mentioned earlier, when suddenly she realized that comments like those were actually helpful. This O'Neill didn't know anything about her skills, her tinkering with her bikes, her favorite cars or her need for speed and this just proved it. If she could just stop herself from getting carried away and thinking she knew him, and he would continue to say things her Jack would never say or ask everything would be just fine.

* * *

><p><strong>2030 hours<br>I-90  
>Montana<strong>

Jack suppressed a yawn and threw a quick glance at his passenger. Sam seemed to be nodding off but he wasn't sure if she really was sleeping or just resting her eyes. He'd already learned that she could will herself to catch an hour of shuteye a few hours earlier, after they'd switched sides again. He'd driven most of the morning and she'd just been dead quiet, moodily staring out the window and throwing him the occasional glance, but when lunch had come around she'd finally gotten more talkative and then she'd taken the wheel up until a few hours ago. He wasn't sure if she just wasn't a morning person – this was the first time he'd noticed – or if it was the situation, with both of them uncomfortable being in the car together knowing they'd be here for hours, days even, that had made her act so grumpy or maybe it was something else entirely.

Either way, he was glad she'd decided to talk to him again because he'd been close to pulling out his hair from frustration and boredom. The interstate simply wasn't very interesting and the long stretches of trees had even bored him. He'd briefly considered joking about them but he figured she probably wouldn't understand – or maybe continue ignoring him – since he'd been told he had a very dry sense of humor. Something his son had inherited from him, according to Sara, he thought with a small grin.

His stomach started growling for the second time this evening and Jack decided that he really needed some dinner now. He hadn't wanted to stop in Butte when Sam had suggested it and had convinced her he wasn't tired yet and could drive for a few more hours. No more though; he was getting tired and hungry. If he wasn't mistaken the same was true for her.

"Hey Sam," he murmured, gently nudging her shoulder. He startled when she jumped up and looked around, as if searching for danger. "Sorry, didn't mean to pull you from sleep so rudely," he said abashedly.

"That's okay," she mumbled in a sleepy tone. "Are we there yet?"

Jack grinned, shaking his head. "I guess that depends on where 'there' is supposed to be."

"Right," she grimaced, before turning to look outside. "We can stop in Billings, it's not that far. I'm sure they have a nice diner and a motel there somewhere."

"Okay," he shrugged. "I guess your speeding put us ahead of schedule," he teased.

Sam rolled her eyes before stretching lazily in the confined space. "I wasn't speeding that much and I was very careful."

"I don't think those words go together."

"Next exit," she said instead of replying. "Do you have any preferences?"

Jack raised his brows at her question as he steered the car into the right lane, heading towards Billings. "Something edible?"

Sam merely nodded, apparently agreeing with him and remained quiet until they were well into the city. "Oh look, there. New Clover Leaf Restaurant."

"You sure?" He asked, not seeing anything especially appealing from it.

"Yeah sure you betcha," she grinned. "There's a motel two blocks down too, we can go there once we've had some food."

"Your wish is my command," Jack muttered as he sought out a parking spot and parked the car.

* * *

><p><strong>0430 hours<br>Sleep-Rite Motel  
>Billings, Montana<strong>

Sam blinked at the harsh bathroom light and quickly brushed her teeth and rinsed her face as quietly as possible. For some strange reason she was still tired but she knew the sun would come up in two hours and that she had to go now. She had hoped that all the hours of just sitting in a car all day would have been enough rest for her body so she could do without the last few hours of sleep. Unfortunately that didn't seem to be the case and she couldn't afford to linger here, to wake up properly or even take the time to get a cup of coffee across the street.

She had already gotten dressed after slipping out of bed and had her water canteen and flashlight ready. All that was left was making sure Colonel O'Neill was fast asleep in the connecting room. He had insisted on keeping the adjoining doors open, which could work both in her favor, or against her; she could easily check on him but at the same time he could access her room and discover she was gone. So she'd said she was uncomfortable with that and they'd compromised by keeping both their doors unlocked but still closed. Then a simple knock would suffice and the other could open their door. Gnawing her lip she went over to the door and quietly opened it. Her heart was pounding but luckily she was merely faced with his adjoining door; at least he hadn't opened it since they retired for the evening.

Their adjoining doors only had doorknobs and locks on their side of the room, so she'd been forced to be creative to gain access to his room. Earlier this evening, when they'd checked the doors and rooms, she'd used a piece of tape to cover his door's latch bolt to prevent the door from clicking shut and had attached the tape's ending to the doorjamb on her side of the door when she had wished him a good night. She carefully peeled the tape away and held her breath as the door opened. She could barely make out the lump on the bed but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness Sam could tell he was sound asleep. As she slowly released her breath in relief she registered his labored breathing and the minute movements that indicated he was having a nightmare.

From experience with her Jack she knew he could have several nightmares a night and if he went back to sleep after waking from this one, he'd probably have another. Sam knew she was taking a risk by leaving now because he could just as easily decide not to go back to sleep, but she decided to rely on his need for privacy after experiencing a nightmare. In the beginning her Jack had been reluctant to share anything about them with her, simply because he didn't want to bother her with his baggage and back then he'd leave the room, take a moment for himself and regroup. Sometimes she wouldn't see him again until morning. But throughout the years he'd realized he wasn't the only one with issues after witnessing one of her many nightmares and suddenly he'd understood her desire to comfort him because he'd felt the same way towards her. Slowly but surely they'd confided in each other and whenever they had one of their nightly ordeals, and woke up the other they'd seek comfort and reassurance from them. There were still times one of them needed their space and some time alone, but that was usually only when the other had slept through it and they were reluctant to wake them.

It was hard for her to leave the familiar sleeping but disturbed form of Colonel O'Neill when knowing some of the agony he might be reliving, but Sam firmly told herself that this wasn't the same man and that she had to leave now. Pulling herself together she took a chance by pulling the door closed and removing the tape with a strong tug in the hopes the bolt would latch – which it did. She waited for five seconds with her ear pressed against the door but didn't hear anything except O'Neill's soft, familiar mutterings that usually accompanied her Jack's nightmares and so she stepped back to close her own door. The used tape ended up in the wastebasket and grabbing her water and flashlight, Sam sneaked out of her motel room.

She'd chosen this motel on purpose – although she hadn't let Colonel O'Neill in on it – because it was the same one Teal'c and Jack had stayed at eight years ago, after Martin Lloyd had contacted the base's switchboard. Sam was working on the assumption that the alien's escape pod was still buried in the clearing of the woodland she was heading towards right now, because Martin never got in contact with the SGC in this timeline thus he would have never stopped taking his medication and wouldn't have realized the truth about his own existence, or his escape pod and ship in orbit around Mars. The ship itself probably already went back to Earth about three years ago since it had been on a timer and perhaps Martin and his fellow aliens had gone back home, but it was the escape pod she was interested in. The exact coordinates had been mentioned in the mission reports of both Teal'c and the then-Colonel Jack O'Neill, as well as listed in the report about the exploration of the clearing and the attempted excavation of the pod.

Of course she'd been extremely interested in the pod, before as well as after it blew up in her timeline, so she'd read everything she could about it and what the military had been able to learn about it before Martin had accidentally activated its self-destruct. Her eidetic memory came in handy whenever situations like these – although the whole alternate timeline experience was new even to her – arose and she knew from the mission reports how to get to the woodland from the motel. Sam had double-checked the escape pod's coordinates and the quickest route to it from several different locations last week in the library in Olympia and knew exactly where to go from here.

It was a good thing her muscles weren't aching anymore from her run this weekend, because she'd calculated the distance to the clearing and knew that she'd have to run most of the distance to get there in time. Taking a deep breath before glancing back at O'Neill's motel room just in case, Sam took off in the right direction. The first two miles were easy and hadn't taken her long but the more she left Billings behind her and the closer the woodland came, the less streetlight there was and the darker it became. Soon it was getting difficult to see even a few meters in front of her and by the time she could hardly see her own step, Sam turned on her flashlight and continued on her way.

Navigating through the woods was more challenging than she'd liked; she'd already nearly slipped twice – nothing serious though – and she was pretty sure a few bruises were already forming on her legs and arms from some of the branches snapping against her body. A smile broke out on Sam's face though when she finally reached the clearing after almost an hour. She was slightly panting and definitely perspiring, but after checking out the area's perimeter and determining it safe for her to cross she dashed over to where the escaped pod was supposed to be.

To her amazement it was still there – and nearly made her trip – and she fell down to her knees near the small hatch, grinning widely. Even without the added benefit of technology she'd been able to find it! It was good to know her skills were still intact since she'd mainly relied on GPS or UTDs to find her way the past decade or so. It had been too dangerous though to buy a GPS tracker just in case O'Neill decided to go through her things when she wasn't looking. Or maybe he wouldn't even bother hiding it and just search it in right under her nose. The GPS from the SUV the Colonel had managed to get his hands on for their road trip would no doubt record all their movements so using it was also out, even if she could have gotten away with taking the car, or just its GPS, with her and walking the rest of the way through the woods. For the same reason she'd left her cell phone – supplied by the OSI – behind in her motel room, despite it having GPS on it.

Sam quickly cleared the immediate area around the escape pod's hatch and using her flashlight examined the technology as best she could. From the reports she'd read she knew they'd used force to open it in her timeline, mostly because of the added benefit that penetrating the hull gave them; the remote sensors would activate and Martin's fellow aliens would be alerted. She grabbed some of the tools she'd dared carry with her and started her usual process of exploring alien technology after putting on the simple gloves she'd snagged back at the gas station. Back in 2000 there hadn't been any scientists around that had experience with escape pods or even spaceships in general, but over the years she had learned a lot and unfortunately had quite the experience of using escape pods too.

Less than twenty minutes later Sam had managed to open the latch. She'd known that there had to be a way to open the pod from the outside, simply because someone might get stuck or knocked out inside when there's a rough landing. After making sure there weren't any traps, she eased herself inside the unfamiliar craft and checked out the interior. It was definitely impressive and large – approximately sixteen feet long by ten feet wide – especially for an escape pod. Then again, it had carried a crew of five so it couldn't be as cramped as Earth's escape pods or even the Goa'uld ones, which were for one person.

There was even a computer console, something she'd been hoping for and Sam immediately got to work. Using the tools she'd brought along, she managed to reroute the power for life support to the computer system and using trial and error Sam quickly found what she was looking for. She pried off the right cover and quickly buried herself in the inner workings of the systems, surrounded by crystals and some type of wiring she'd seen in several alien races. Inserting a small, simple yet effective remotely controlled device she'd made last week, she pulled back, double-checked everything and replaced the cover. Sam changed some of the variables in the computer systems, ensuring the escape pod would continue to run on the lowest level of power so that when she decided she needed a distraction or was forced to give some information up, she could steer the Air Force and the NID towards this buried 'spaceship' and make it detonate remotely by activating her device, which would short-circuit the system causing an explosion.

When Sam was satisfied with her work she climbed back out, took off her gloves and gathered her things before she headed back towards the motel. The twilight colored the sky by now and checking her watch she realized it was already past 0600 hours. With the darkness gone and the route somewhat familiar, she managed to get back to the hotel in forty-five minutes. With a smirk, she watched the last of the sunrise before walking slowly back to her room. Just as she rounded the corner though, she bumped into Colonel O'Neill!

* * *

><p>"Ow!" Jack cried out as he bumped into someone rounding the corner, their head hitting his chin. "Oh for crying out loud, Sam!" He exclaimed when he realized who it was. He'd been looking all over for her!<p>

"Sh!" She hushed, glaring at him.

Frowning, he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her back towards their rooms. Jack was about to ask her why she reacted like that when he realized he called her by her real name outdoors! Fortunately for them there didn't seem to be anyone around at this hour, though. "Where the hell have you been? I was knocking on your door but you didn't answer and when I got out and looked through your window, I realized you weren't even in your room!"

"I was out," Sam replied curtly, shrugging his hand off when they reached their rooms.

"Oh, well in that case," he replied sarcastically, waiting for her to explain.

She blushed under his scrutiny and gestured over her shoulder. "I went for a run."

"Again?" Jack automatically questioned suspiciously, before his eyes did an onceover of her body. He hadn't realized she was wearing her sneakers and clothes – a tank top and cropped running tights – similar to her running outfit from Saturday. The same water canteen was stripped to her hip and instead of a cap she was now wearing a bandana to keep her hair out of her face. "You went for a run at this hour?"

"I couldn't sleep." Sam shifted awkwardly to the side and leaned against her door.

"No cramps?" He gestured at her legs and when she shook her head, he raised his brows questioningly. "Managed to reach those ten miles this time?"

She bobbed her head with a shy smile. "Yeah, definitely managed those."

She would have had to considering how long she'd been gone, if she truly had gone running. He'd woken up over half an hour ago – damn nightmares – and after taking a quick shower to get himself together, he'd softly knocked on her adjoining door just in case she was still sleeping. He'd thought perhaps they could go for an early breakfast and hit the road ahead of schedule, but he hadn't heard anything coming from the other side of the door.

Then he'd gone outside for ten minutes or so and just enjoyed the twilight before he'd tried her door again, knowing she usually got up around that time anyway and thinking she might enjoy watching the sunrise here. He'd gotten concerned when there still hadn't been an answer and peeping through the small opening between the curtains of her window had shown an empty bed. The bed had been made too, which had made him more suspicious and worried about what kind of stunt she'd pulled on him – and merely concerned about his own welfare when he lost his charge – and he'd quickly gone out to the parking lot to make sure the SUV he'd had to twist Maybourne's arm for had still been there.

"Look, I'm just going to hit the shower okay and then we can go get breakfast."

"Go ahead," he grunted, waving her into her room and then walking over to his own. Pulling out his key he went back inside and packed up the few things he'd taken out of his bag, eager to get going again. They could get some breakfast at the diner across the street, or maybe pick something up from a bakery in town if Sam wanted something like that – they'd passed one on their way here – and then start their trip to Minnesota. Jack was hoping they could reach Minneapolis and otherwise Saint Cloud would probably do. It was just to eat, get some peace and quiet after all those hours in the car with her, catch a few hours of shuteye and freshen up after all, he thought as he rubbed his chin where no doubt a bruise was already forming from her hard head.

* * *

><p>Sam let out a deep breath as she closed the door behind her and immediately sagged to the floor against it. That had been a close call! It was a good thing she'd thought about taking her running clothes with her. She hadn't really been planning on doing some running during their road trip, although stretching her legs after hours in a car was nice, but when she realized how far the escape pod was she figured this outfit would be best suited and the best excuse if she needed one. And boy, had she needed a good excuse! She awkwardly pulled the stainless steel canteen from her hip and got up.<p>

Walking over to her bag, she unscrewed the bottle's cap and turned it upside down when she reached it. The small tools and her slim flashlight tumbled out of her canteen and fell into the bag. She moved the items around a bit, making sure they were hidden if someone threw a casual glance over the contents and pulled out a set of clean clothes and a towel. Sam was already making her way over to the bathroom for her shower, thinking about the gloves she'd have to pry out of the canteen when she changed her mind. Quickly retracing her steps she shoved the tools back into the canteen, just in case Colonel O'Neill would rummage through her things. This way the chance he'd find something would be minimal and the flashlight wasn't a strange item in itself.

Satisfied, Sam kicked off her sneakers and went back into the bathroom. She'd pack up her sweaty clothes and shoes in a separate plastic bag afterwards and then she was going to need a big cup of coffee before they'd hit the road!


	15. Day Forty Four of a New Life

**Day 44  
>I-94 E<br>North Dakota**

They had been on the road for almost six hours already and entered North Dakota about two hours ago. Jack was already thinking about lunch and figured they could stop soon; perhaps they could eat something when they'd reach Bismarck. He wasn't even sure if he was really hungry – he'd had a big breakfast after all, once he'd calmed down enough to eat – or if the feeling was out of pure boredom, just so he could do something other than sitting and driving, maybe even stretch his legs. All he had with him was a bottle of water; his coffee was long gone and he'd gotten rid of his chewing gum a couple of hundred miles ago already. Right now he would even enjoy an energy bar just so he'd have something to do, like munching on it.

He'd never been good at sitting still and no matter how comfortable the SUV was he didn't particularly enjoy sitting behind the wheel on a boring interstate for hours on end in silence, even though he used to take Sara and Tyler up to the cabin by car too and that was over eleven hundred miles – it was different because this wasn't his choice and he wouldn't end up at his cabin but take Sam gambling. The radio wasn't on because it had been too early in the morning for him when they'd left Billings and if he were honest, he'd been too pissed with his charge for going on a run without telling him and making him worry about her when he'd woken up and her room had been empty so he wasn't in the mood to appreciate any kind of music. Sam hadn't seemed too bothered by the lack of music either; mostly she'd been acting kind of… well, he'd almost say nervous ever since they'd bumped into each other outside of their motel room. After she'd taken her shower and packed up her things he'd almost dragged her towards their car and they'd gone for breakfast – in silence – before hitting the road.

Despite her story about going for a run and her convincing gear earlier this morning, he was still suspicious. It just didn't sit right with him. Who goes out to run at that hour in an unfamiliar town and without telling their travel companion? The least she could have done was leave a note, maybe on his side of her adjoining door. Not to mention that her excuse of not being able to sleep was pretty flimsy considering she'd fallen asleep when they'd only been in the car for less than two hours. Throwing a glance at his passenger Jack's brows knitted together when he saw her head had lolled to the side and she was now facing him. Her eyes were closed causing her dark blond lashes to rest on her cheeks but they were still moving rapidly from side to side behind their lids, indicating she was off in dreamland.

She was muttering something incomprehensible though through her slightly parted lips and instead of her attractive features being relaxed in sleep, she wore a worried and maybe even pained expression. He also caught sight of her twitching fingers in her lap from the corner of his eye when he focused back on the road. Perhaps he wasn't the only one whose dreams were sometimes plagued by nasty memories from his subconscious, Jack thought as her sleep became more fitful. By now her mutterings had become louder too and he wasn't sure but he thought it sounded like a derivative of Arabic, a language he'd learned throughout some of the more unpleasant years of his career. Sam's file or interviews hadn't mentioned her speaking the language or something similar but considering she was military like him – and very much unlike the mission commander – it was possible she'd become familiar with it as well prior to her involvement of their Stargate Program or whatever it was called.

Jack decided to leave her be for the moment and only intervene if her nightmare became more violent since he wouldn't want her to catch him in one of his own if their roles were reversed; it was bad enough his wife had to deal with them sometimes and he really didn't want anyone else there when he woke up feeling vulnerable and distressed. Plus he thought it would be rather awkward and embarrassing for both of them, regardless of who was having the bad dream and who did the waking. His mind was already bringing back the memories of his own nightmares from the previous night, so he sternly told himself to pursue a different line of thought.

With a last glance at his passenger's sleeping form Jack forced himself to think of something else. They were definitely running low on snacks – not that they'd had much to begin with – so perhaps they could do some grocery shopping during their lunch break too, or buy something at a gas station when filling up the tank. Assuming they'd take an hour or so for lunch it would be late in the evening by the time they would finally settle down in a motel in Minnesota. There was no telling if any shops or supermarkets would still be open by that time, especially considering they didn't even know yet where they would be staying the night. Saint Cloud or Minneapolis were the most likely destinations for today but it all depended on how far they could drive before fatigue and boredom – and perhaps irritation with each other – would take over. Being cooped up together in a car – granted, it was an SUV but there still wasn't enough space for his taste – for hours on end really wasn't his idea of a perfect bonding opportunity and he was still silently wondering why his superiors and the NID had thought it a great idea…

Jack startled from his musings when a soft moan sounded from his right, followed by a small whimper making him look to the side. Sam seemed to be reliving something nasty and he empathized with her. "Sam," he said softly, his eyes darting between the road and her. When she didn't respond he repeated her name a bit louder. "Sam! C'mon, wakey wakey." That didn't seem to work either, so he gently reached out and shook her shoulder. "Wake up, Sam." Instead of doing as she was told though she just shifted closer to the car's passenger door and averted her head, breathing rapidly but still asleep.

"Oh great," he muttered, realizing that if he jostled her now she'd probably bump her head against the window and he'd never hear the end of it, despite his good intentions. Making sure the road was clear in front of him and they weren't likely to crash into something, Jack turned slightly towards her. Her hands were now gripping the fabric of her floaty summer dress, which ended just above the knee when she was sitting and her mutterings were replaced with soft groans as she squirmed under her seatbelt. "Sam," he tried again, reaching for one hand and trying to pry her fingers loose but she just shook him off. His eyes darted back to the road before he placed his hand on her knee. At first he squeezed gently, trying to ignore the warmth radiating from her skin and the slight tingle he felt upon contact, but when she didn't respond he dug his fingers into her skin and shook her.

"C'mon, wake up… Carter!" He used his best commanding tone, hoping it might trigger her inner soldier used to obeying orders and to his surprise it worked! Sam groaned as she straightened slightly in her seat, one hand releasing the death grip on the fabric of her dress to scrub her face. Her breathing was still too fast and loud, especially in the quietness of the car so Jack figured he'd best ignore her and give her a moment to herself. Seeing her blink sleepily and running a hand through her locks in his periphery he quickly released his hold on her knee as if burned and focused back on the task at hand with his gaze firmly on the road, ignoring the imprint his grip had left on her skin.

"I-ah…" Sam cleared her throat awkwardly and fumbled around in search of her water bottle by the sounds of it. "I didn't mean to fall asleep on you," she murmured softly before taking a sip.

The sound was loud after driving the last four hours or so in silence but Jack didn't really mind. "It's okay," he shot her a quick smile. "Sleep well?" He kept his eyes on the road as he asked it, hoping it'd reassure her that he either didn't know how bad her nightmare had been or that he just wouldn't bring it up again; there had already been plenty of occasions where she'd shown him she was independent and tough, so he figured this would be the best way to handle it – how he'd prefer it if their roles were reversed.

"I didn't really think I'd sleep this long," she replied, successfully avoiding giving a real answer. "Where are we?"

"North Dakota," he answered. "Hungry? I figured we could stop in Bismarck, have lunch and maybe do some grocery shopping. We're running low on snacks and if you want we could get some Frootees for breakfast tomorrow," Jack added, recalling how little she'd ordered in the diner this morning, claiming she wasn't in the mood for a big breakfast.

"Bismarck is fine."

He nodded in agreement, keeping his eye out for the right exit knowing they were only ten minutes away from the capital. "Great."

"Do you want me to take over after lunch?" Sam questioned, looking at him.

"Yeah sure, okay. You're much better rested than I am, after all," he grinned. "And I wouldn't mind lounging in my chair while you do the driving for a while. How are your legs, by the way?" He quickly glanced at her with raised brows, but she seemed confused. "After your run this morning."

She shifted in her chair, her hands automatically straightening the skirt of her dress as she smoothed them over her thighs. "Oh, I'm fine. Even though I haven't done much running lately I'm still in good shape. Had to be," she added.

"Good," Jack mumbled, knowing she was referring to her position in the supposed alternate timeline. "You were in command, right?" When he saw her simply nodding from the corner of his eye he pushed a bit harder. "Of…?"

"A-eh, a base," Sam replied after a moment of hesitation.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise; that hadn't been mentioned in any of the interviews. Just that she'd been in command of some project called Atlantis with all kinds of alien doodads or something, not surprising considering she was supposed to be a lab geek in the military – not that she really fit his image of a geek. "Not bad," he admitted. "I figured you were holed up in a lab somewhere after your years in the field."

"About two and a half years ago I was for a few months," she said.

"When your team disbanded temporarily," he recalled from one of Mitchell's interviews. "How come?" When all he heard was a soft sigh, he peeked at her from behind his sunglasses and could tell from her facial expression that she was contemplating what to tell him exactly. Interesting. "Sam?"

She shrugged before placing one hand on the dashboard for support as she leaned down to rummage through her bag at her feet with the other. "We all went into different directions. It was time for a break after eight years."

"Tired of saving the world?" Jack teased.

"Something like that," she agreed. "Ah!" She exclaimed triumphantly and from the corner of his eye he saw her put on her sunglasses as she straightened up.

Finally reaching the correct exit he signaled and changed lanes to leave the interstate. "But you missed it?"

"I was temporarily reassigned back to the SGC."

"Why?"

She shrugged again, trying awfully hard to avoid his eyes. "My expertise was needed."

"For what?" he asked, trying not to seem too eager. They still didn't know a lot about her and while her teammates had dropped some information he liked to have the whole picture.

"There was a situation with a new enemy who wanted people to devote themselves to their religion and worship them," Sam finally replied.

Jack could tell that wasn't the whole truth and assumed it had probably something to do with technology, seeing how she'd been their Stargate and alien technology expert and had been stationed at Area 51 for a while according to Mitchell. "But you stayed?"

"Orders are orders," she said with a small smile.

"That's when Mitchell got the band back together?"

She seemed slightly annoyed with that question when he looked at her as they waited in front of a traffic light. "Something like that."

Jack decided he liked that answer coming from her even less than her "I'm fine" and rolled his eyes. "And then you got command of a base?"

"About a year ago."

"Impressive for a full bird," he replied honestly, even though he didn't really know anything about the command. "Especially someone your age."

She blushed and turned to look out the window, seemingly interested in the streets of Bismarck. "Perhaps."

Or maybe her modesty was even more impressive, he thought to himself. He knew plenty of flyboys that had no trouble bragging about their accomplishments and if everything she and her friends had told them was true, those paled in comparison. "Does that mean you've been flying a desk?"

She'd turned back to him when he'd asked the question and now a big smile broke out on her face, the first honest and spontaneous one he'd seen from her. It lit up her face and he was pretty sure it made her eyes twinkle too but the sunglasses were hiding them from view. "I guess you could say that," she replied with a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Rather you than me," Jack countered, shuddering at the thought of having to fly a desk; he preferred being in the field even if it was just training the new recruits. The light finally turned to green, so he focused back on the road and slowly followed the cars in front of him into the center of the capital, in search of somewhere to eat and buy groceries.

* * *

><p><strong>2107 hours<br>Downtown Restaurant  
>St. Cloud, Minnesota<strong>

Sam didn't know what it was about sitting in a car for hours on end that tired her so much but since arriving in the restaurant earlier she'd already yawned several times. At first she'd thought it was the tension from being cooped up with Colonel O'Neill all day when she'd felt wiped out the moment she'd entered her room in Billings last night. Today however wasn't much different, except that she'd slept for about four hours this morning while O'Neill did the driving and there hadn't been nearly as much tension between them afterwards. She had decided to make a bit more effort in making conversation with him even if it meant divulging some of the information she'd been keeping to herself so far. It helped that she knew there weren't any bugs in the car; they were probably afraid she'd accidentally come across them or have the radio or their cell phones interfere with the signal.

From some of his questions and remarks she could already tell Daniel and Cam had been a bit more forthcoming in their interrogations than she'd been, but she suspected that had mainly to do with her expertise on alien technology. Obviously Daniel could easily tell them about how he'd been recruited into the Program, how he'd figured out to dial the 'gate and go on and on about different races, cultures and their importance to Earth without giving too much away or risk being detained for further 'cooperation' or interrogations – assuming he'd kept quiet about all the times he'd died, ascended, descended or had been healed and revived by aliens or their technology. As far as she could tell Cam had mostly talked about how he had ended up at the SGC, their enemies and perhaps allies in general, SG-1 and had spoken broadly about what they did for a living. Sam had no doubt they'd all told them about the Goa'uld, Teal'c, Vala and the threat Ba'al posed specifically. At times like these she was also very pleased she'd stuck to her guns in the beginning of the Program and Hammond had approved the continued use of the binary codes her computer program used to extrapolate the different Stargate addresses. This way most SGC personnel was simply familiar with the code instead of the actual glyphs and thus they couldn't really give up the locations unless they knew the actual addresses used by the dialing program – or if they knew how to translate those codes to an address, like she did.

Sam herself had only told her interrogators about how the 'gate worked in great detail and some of their technological finds and advancements in general because she sure as hell wasn't going to let them in on the specifics of those. Even though she'd been on the frontline for most of the past decade, she'd contributed to a lot of technological advancements and was considered the expert on alien technology and reverse-engineering it, and she had been involved with creating the fighter crafts and battle cruisers as well – at least she knew the guys hadn't mentioned those or she would have never been allowed to leave custody. Not to mention knowing the designs of a naquadah generator by heart and having the ability to turn them into rather destructive bombs with her eyes closed.

All she'd need was enough refined naquadah, her trusty generator and a good computer for simulations… and a test site. She was still haunted by the naquadah-enhanced nuclear weapon General Bauer had ordered her to create and deploy to this day; he'd known about the abandoned Goa'uld naquadah mine and who knew what else had been filtered from the report she'd received about the planet. They hadn't even been able to tell if there were people or other sentient beings living there because – according to Bauer – they'd only done an aerial survey of a fifty-mile radius from the 'gate! Then, against her advice, they'd blown up the bomb and there had been the expected chain reaction, which probably caused the planet to turn into a giant ball of superheated plasma. Ultra high frequency gamma rays had leaked back through the open wormhole and had nearly destroyed the base, if not Earth – it had been pure luck the 'gate deactivated after the thirty-eight minute window. That had been in her own timeline, with years of experience of alien technology and Stargate travel. Who knew what the Air Force, NID, Navy or whoever the hell was going to be in control would do with such technology here?

The Mark IX was even more destructive and the resulting beachhead they'd unintentionally helped power up with the explosion during their first use still overshadowed the success of having created a so-called gatebuster. There was no way she was going to give anyone in this timeline such ammo and that had been the reason she'd remained vague with her answer to O'Neill earlier in the car, when he'd asked her about why she'd transferred back to the SGC from Area 51. Even if the Navy here managed to find the 'gate and set up their own program she had no intention of providing them with the plans to build a naquadah bomb, let alone a naquadria-enhanced nuclear warhead capable of a multi-gigaton detonation that could vaporize a Stargate and anything else in a hundred-mile radius. She wasn't going to allow herself to even _think _about _Project Horizon_, their most powerful weapon so far and capable of at least six times the destruction of a gatebuster.

Technology like MALPs, UAVs, particle beam generators, drone weapons, TERs, plasma cannons, holographic systems, phase-shifting devices and intergalactic bridges would probably come in handy for this Navy too, but she wasn't about to hand over the schematics to those either. She'd seen how Bauer had ignored protocol and safety of his men by sending them into a known Goa'uld stronghold simply to retrieve some refined naquadah for her bomb, so she couldn't imagine what they'd do in this timeline if they knew the explosive qualities of the element – or its highly unstable radioactive variation, naquadria – or the countless of other potential military and scientific applications it could be used for. Hopefully the guys had kept this in mind too and seeing how she hadn't been asked about it specifically she could only guess that was the case.

However, that didn't mean she couldn't make conversation with O'Neill and give him tidbits of relatively useless information. That way there wouldn't be so many long stretches of heavy silence and tension between them and he might trust her a bit more too if she was more forthcoming. After all, she knew her Jack wouldn't just trust anyone and she figured that applied to any Jack O'Neill. It couldn't hurt to be more willing as long as she made sure her filter was on to censure some of her knowledge, the more dangerous technologies and the wild adventures she'd lived through.

To her that also meant leaving out the fact that the command she'd been relieved of prior to arriving in this timeline was actually the lost city of Atlantis – in another galaxy. It was pretty clear the Colonel had already been impressed by the fact she'd commanded any base at her rank and age, which wasn't that strange since she'd gotten the impression the military here was slightly different to hers considering his and Maybourne's ages and ranks and their surprise at learning she was a full bird too. She wouldn't deny her military was still a boys' club and that it was still harder for women to advance through the ranks in this day and age, but even there the differences weren't that big. With the two colonels' time in service and lack of further promotions they'd probably already been 'forced' to retire in her timeline. Still, she couldn't help but take pride in Colonel O'Neill's compliment – no matter how backhanded it was considering the different timelines – because even though her Jack had always praised her accomplishments and encouraged her, even when it meant going to the Pegasus Galaxy for at least a year, it proved to her that Jack had always been sincere and that his view hadn't been colored by their feelings for each other.

Sam sighed as she continued to move the last of her food around her plate with a fork, her eyes coming back in focus and watching the passersby outside. O'Neill had left the table almost ten minutes ago after receiving a text message on his phone. At first she'd suspected it was the NID or maybe his CO wanting an update because he hadn't checked in yet, but he'd flushed and mumbled an apology as he went back to a more private corner near the coat room to call back. His flush had thrown her off and since she hadn't really been all that hungry to begin with, she'd left their table for the ladies room after a few minutes and overheard him when she'd snuck past him. For a brief moment she'd wondered if maybe his embarrassment had been because it was actually his wife – the one he claimed didn't exist – checking in while he was taking another woman out to dinner and while Sam was loathe to admit, she'd felt a stab of jealousy at the idea. But when she'd overheard his mumbling in the hallway she realized it was actually his son he was talking to and that was hitting just too close to home so she'd quickly taken care of business and snuck back to their corner table, overlooking the restaurant.

From her seat she could see him pace back and forth in the distance and Sam once more realized she just wanted to leave, find a motel room and crawl into bed. Pretending to be someone she was not was tiring and while O'Neill was purposely trying not to call her anything in public, it was still disturbing to hear the name Alice coming out of that familiar mouth of his every now and then when he looked at her. Truthfully it was more than just that; she'd found she enjoyed talking to him and it was far too easy to fall back in the casual or even flirty banter she and her Jack had. The Colonel had almost the same sense of humor; it just seemed a tat lighter than she was used to. He'd made her feel at ease all day, making conversation, teasing her and he'd made her laugh. It was disconcerting. Sam knew she had to get a grip. Not just because she'd enjoyed his company but also because it felt like she was betraying her Jack and her teammates as she was sitting here instead of actively working on her plan to restore the timeline.

If only Colonel O'Neill would come back to their table so he could finish his meal and they could leave. She wasn't in the mood for dessert or coffee and she could only hope he'd feel the same. It was also getting late and they still had to find a motel. Once they'd entered Minnesota they'd already been on the road for over ten hours in total and she was getting tired. Even O'Neill seemed to have gone quiet and had rested his eyes for a bit so she'd proposed they'd stop in Saint Cloud, another three hours instead of spending the night in Minneapolis. He had agreed but insisted on getting something to eat first, while she'd wanted to look for a motel. He'd claimed to be tired of crappy food and suggested they try this casual and reasonably priced restaurant before all the kitchens would close. Her stomach had started growling at that exact moment so it had been impossible to deny she was feeling a bit hungry, but she had suggested calling around for a motel. O'Neill had claimed that took all the spontaneity out of a road trip but Sam had been adamant it wasn't about the road trip, but their final destination. He'd grumbled a bit before agreeing, although she was fairly sure it was an act – she knew her Jack too well not to see through this one – and had just reached for his phone when he'd gotten the text message.

Now, here she was, waiting for him to get back with her food long forgotten. His food would probably be cold by the time he got back, she mused. Sam grabbed her own cell phone and checked out the nearby motels by accessing the internet. After being on SG-1 for all these years she wasn't very picky when it came down to a place to sleep; she'd slept out in the field in nothing but a sleeping bag or a tent, survived with just her gear in Antarctica but she'd also spent nights in primitive guest quarters or luxurious villas – not to mention all the alien cells. However, that didn't mean she'd be okay with sleeping in a cockroach infested motel room with stained sheets and a bathroom reminiscent of a reeking urinal.

Besides, Sam figured she was going to need a comfy bed if she was going to get any sleep tonight considering the nightmare that had plagued her earlier during her nap in the car. It had been a while since she'd experienced one that didn't make her relive what had happened to Jack during Ba'al's execution; most of the time her subconscious seemed to enjoy making her live through that horrible moment where Ba'al stabbed him in the chest and she had to watch him die helplessly. This time her nightmare had been different. It had started out with some of Jolinar's more unpleasant memories for some strange reason and she'd found herself running through endless Tok'ra tunnels trying to escape something, with all the fellow Tok'ra – including Martouf and Lantash – running around yelling instructions as if they were evacuating one of their bases again. As had become normal during these dreams she actually _was_ Jolinar in them, seeing everything through the previous host's – Rosha – eyes.

Then suddenly they'd reached the surface and she found herself back in that damn temple where the leftover Tok'ra were chanting about Ba'al's past crimes as she, Jack and their old team were listening impatiently. By the time Vala and Teal'c had disappeared she'd heard Jack calling her name, which was new since it hadn't happened like that originally and he'd never call her by her first name while on duty. Finally, he'd snapped, shaking her and calling out her last name and she'd woken up to find herself back in the car with Colonel O'Neill. She'd been warm, sweaty and panicky while her heart was still pounding in her chest and her breathing had been labored. Her clammy hands had been gripping the fabric of her summer dress – it was too hot to wear jeans and a shirt when cooped up in a car all day in the summer – and O'Neill's hand had been gripping her knee tightly before he'd pulled back to focus on the road.

For a moment it almost seemed like she'd imagined it as he was acting as if nothing had happened even though she was pretty sure he'd been the one to wake her up, to prevent her from reliving that awful moment again. But his hand had left an angry imprint on her light skin where his fingers and their short nails had dug into her flesh. She'd tried to focus on that as she fought to control her breathing and heartbeat, watching the imprint fade slowly. She was grateful for the way he ignored her nightmare, how he pretended not to have noticed or waken her up and instead made small talk. However, Sam also knew from experience that an interrupted nightmare often returned with a vengeance the next time she went back to sleep. So even though she wanted to leave the restaurant and crawl into a bed, she was also worried about what her subconscious might conjure up this time. All this extra time spent with Colonel O'Neill and her internal struggle to keep him and her Jack separated in her mind was probably the reason the nightmare had resurfaced, she thought with a grimace.

Sam looked up from her phone when she heard footsteps nearing her and found herself looking at a shy smiling O'Neill. She blinked, twice, to focus and clear her head and waited for him to be seated. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah sure you betcha," he grinned. Glancing down at his plate he frowned and poked his food. "Sorry to have kept you waiting so long. What'cha doing?"

"Oh," she smiled sheepishly, gesturing with her phone. "I was just checking which motels are nearby." Not that she'd actually registered anything from what she'd been reading…

"Got bored, huh?"

Sam shrugged and gestured at the leftovers on her plate. "I wasn't really hungry anymore so I figured I might as well make myself useful."

"Sorry," O'Neill grimaced. "It was just… personal. My kid, eh, he wanted to ask me something," he explained, apparently taking her remark personally.

"Oh, I didn't mean it as a dig towards you, Colonel," she tried to reassure him. He looked embarrassed and she realized now she hadn't recognized his behavior earlier when he'd gotten the text because this man still had his son, unlike her Jack. The only one coming close to it was Cassie in their timeline and they were both very close to her so there was no need to be uncomfortable about her needing something from either of them, not even back when they'd been nothing but CO and 2IC.

O'Neill tried to shrug it off and took a bite of his food. "Ew," he muttered, making a face. "I'm betting this isn't good leftover food," he joked as he pushed his plate away. "Ah well, I wasn't all that hungry anymore anyway. Did you want dessert?"

"No, thank you," she shook her head. When he simply nodded absentmindedly she took a closer look at his face. It was obvious he was schooling his features into one of his blank masks but there were small tells she'd learned over the years of working with and loving her Jack O'Neill that seemed to apply to his counterpart as well. "Is Ch-_Tyler_ okay?" God, she couldn't believe how she'd nearly screwed that up! It was just so strange that his son, who for all intents and purposes should be Charlie O'Neill, was actually named Tyler in this timeline.

The Colonel's eyes narrowed at her question and for a moment she thought he wouldn't answer – or maybe was suspicious of her slip of the tongue – when he finally nodded. "Yeah, he's fine. He just called to talk since it's been a while since I've been, eh, home. You know how it is with teenagers… just the slightest problem and they think it's the end of the world," he added with a small, abashed grin.

Sam was tempted to say, no, she didn't know. She'd never been a typical teenager, it was basically impossible for someone with her intelligence to fit in with kids her age or older even in school simply because her interests weren't the same and being a military brat that had to move every time her father got reassigned hadn't helped either. The only slightly normal teenager she'd been in contact with over the years was Cassandra Fraiser, the alien girl who'd actually experienced the end of her world and had been adopted by the base's CMO, Janet Fraiser. Sam had briefly thought about adopting the young orphan herself but there was no place in her life for a child at the time and Janet could offer Cassie so much more, so she'd simply become her second – or third, really – mother and the guys of SG-1 became the girl's uncles. After Janet's death Cassie had moved in with her and since then she and her Jack had basically been the closest thing Cassandra had to parents. She'd been in college too before the timeline changed and she was around Tyler's age, but even though she'd experienced some typical teenager stuff there was no way Cassie would ever think something insignificant would be the end of the world, not with everything she'd gone through. "Yeah, I guess," Sam replied noncommittally.

"Hm," he said before taking a sip of his drink, all the while letting his eyes rest on her face. It was disconcerting and she wondered how much he could see. "You know…" She could tell he'd been about to call her by her real first name, but quickly stopped himself. "You've never told us much about yourself. Do you have any kids?"

_Cassie_, was Sam's first thought as several images of the young orphan they'd found to the young woman she was now flashed through her mind. After she and Jack got together they'd touched on the subject of children and even though they were both relatively old and battle-damaged – not to mention they had no idea how much her body chemistry had changed after Jolinar and other alien takeovers – they'd decided to give it a try, see what happened; if Sam got pregnant it would be wonderful but if she didn't that would be fine too.

Then Atlantis had come up and their plans had been postponed. She'd already missed her last Depo-Provera injection by that time, knowing it would take nine to ten months on average for her body to be ready to conceive after taking the birth control. While taking command meant she wasn't technically on the front lines anymore she didn't want to take any chances considering Atlantis was their front line _station_ in a different galaxy so she – together with Jack – had decided to take oral contraception instead, knowing the chances of her normal cycle returning afterwards were greater and that on average it only took six months.

Now though, her Jack was gone and she was in a different timeline. Doctor Nimiziki had given her the oral contraception she'd asked for back when she'd been held on McChord Air Force Base and she'd continued her prescription since more or less out of habit. He'd offered her their version of Depo-Provera but she'd declined; the hope of being able to restore the timeline was too strong. She still had no idea how Ba'al had accomplished the alternate timeline so she'd come up with her own plan to fix it. That also meant she wasn't sure if her plan would save her Jack from the clone's attack automatically or not, so she planned on going back to the extraction ceremony just in time with all her knowledge intact – so there was a good chance her body wouldn't revert to the state it was in at the time of the original extraction ceremony.

* * *

><p>Jack frowned slightly at the faraway look in Sam's eyes and he wondered what she was thinking. He didn't recognize the flashes of emotion in her eyes because they were too fleeting. Sighing, he reached out and gently shook her hand, hoping his question hadn't upset her too much and undone all the progress they'd made today. "Hey."<p>

"Oh, sorry," she blushed, looking down at the table.

"Zoned out, huh?"

She nodded and shrugged minutely. "I thought we'd agreed my personal life was off-limits," she said instead of answering his question. "Like yours."

Okay, he probably deserved that… "Well yeah," Jack reluctantly agreed, his fingers tapping on the table impatiently. "But I shared something of mine when you asked."

"Only because I showed concern for… your son," she replied with narrowed eyes.

"True," he conceded with a grin.

Sam rolled her eyes and let out a deep sigh. "No, okay?"

Jack was momentarily confused before he realized _that_ was her answer and by the looks of it it wasn't the whole truth. Then again, he'd gotten used to getting half-truths from her so he really shouldn't be surprised. "I'm sorry," he apologized after recognizing a glimpse of pain on her face. "I didn't mean to pry."

She shot him a well-deserved disbelieving look but let it go. "Did you want something else?"

Patting his stomach he shook his head; he may not have eaten a lot before his call to Tyler but now the food was cold and he'd already snacked enough after their groceries this afternoon to get through the night. "Did you have a motel in mind?" Sam went back to studying her phone in reply while Jack contemplated asking her a question that had been bothering him for a while now. When she finally looked up again and mentioned three motels that suited their demands and would do budget-wise, he decided to just ask. "Hey, what about me? I mean, the other me," he frowned at himself. "My, eh, counterpart. What happened after his kid died? I can't imagine living through that…"

Sam seemed to be caught off guard by his question and stammered for a bit. "Eh, well, I don't really know the specifics. I didn't know J-_General_ O'Neill back then yet. You should ask Daniel, they met during the first mission to Abydos."

"Sara?" Jack had the feeling she was lying although he couldn't prove it. It was probably just a gut instinct, but that had served him well plenty of times in the past. Maybe it was true she hadn't known his counterpart yet at the time but apparently they'd worked together for over eight years and were still friends. Well, had been friends until she and her teammates got here, in his world. Then again, he couldn't imagine confiding something that personal to his second-in-command or other teammates, no matter how good acquainted they were.

"They divorced," she replied after a beat.

He nodded in understanding, unsure whether he should be pleased he'd been right about it. "Not surprising after losing your child," he replied curtly. She just nodded emphatically and before he knew it he blurted out his next question. "Was he happy? I mean, did he have a new family? Someone he loved?"

Sam pensively gnawed her lip, throwing him a few speculative glances as if gauging he had a right to know. Jack thought he did even though he knew, deep down, that it shouldn't matter what this supposed counterpart of his did or did not have. Still, he was pleased to see her swallow hard before turning to him. "Yes, he found someone."

"Anyone I know?" He asked, his curiosity piqued.

"No," she shook her head sadly, looking out of the window instead of at him. "I don't think you've met her counterpart here," she said slowly.

Jack silently wondered why he'd wanted to know in the first place and if her answer really had sounded calculated and carefully phrased or if his tired mind was playing tricks on him when suddenly she got up from the table. "Oh, right," he muttered, getting up as well. "I'll get the check." Sam nodded and indicated the ladies room – or maybe the coat rack, he wasn't sure – before walking off and he went over to pay the bill. Their budget for this road trip wasn't huge but if they managed to get short of cash halfway through, he was sure he could compensate some of it with his winnings from Atlantic City. Not that he was planning on doing a lot of gambling, but he was pretty sure Sam would get pissed if he'd continually hover by her side. He was a pretty good poker player and he knew when to fold 'em, so he figured he could do some gambling, win some money and call it quits.

Fifteen minutes later they were back in the car and heading to the nearest motel from Sam's list. In the end it took them another forty minutes to finally find a motel with a vacancy – third time's the charm – and Jack let out a sigh of relief. The only problem was that they only had _one_ room available. One with two queen-sized beds though, so he reluctantly agreed to it after Sam just shrugged and yawned tiredly. The check-in guy made it clear he didn't see a reason for Jack's objections when leering at Sam as she stretched her lithe frame with her next yawn. Jack made sure to throw the man a deadly glare, making his intentions pretty clear if he'd catch him leering at her again before pulling Sam along on her arm to their new room.

The room was probably big enough, with about three feet between the two beds, a dresser, desk and two chairs. There wasn't much light in the room though, just a nightlight on both of their nightstands and one rather dim ceiling light, which was in sharp contrast to the bright bathroom light. The bathroom itself was clean enough but Jack was too tired to shower now, so he figured he'd just splash some water on his face, brush his teeth and change in there before slipping into his bed in the dark. He'd turned his back towards the bathroom door and waited until Sam, presumably dressed in pajamas but he wasn't going to chance a look, came out and went into the opposite bed behind him. He heard her mumble him a good night before she switched off her nightlight and the room bathed in darkness. Within minutes he'd willed himself asleep.

It was in the middle of the night that Jack awoke abruptly, a curse dying on his lips and his blankets tangled around his limbs as if he'd been struggling. Considering the nightmare he'd just had he didn't think that was an unreasonable assumption. The motel room slowly came in focus as his eyes adjusted to the dark while his harsh breathing broke the nightly silence. Remembering the awkward situation at the motel's front desk earlier that day when they'd been forced to take the last room and share it or take their chances and hope there was another reasonable motel with vacancies, Jack's head whipped in the direction of the other bed.

Empty. The goddamned bed was empty! Groaning, he fought with the blankets to untangle himself, nearly falling on the floor flat on his face in his rushed attempts. When he finally got out he adjusted his sleep attire – boxers and a shirt – that had also been a casualty of his pathetic fight with the covers and jumped over to Sam's bed, hitting the light switch on the wall. It seemed to have been slept in but now the covers had been thrown to the foot of the bed and there was no impression of her blonde head in the pillows either. Her bag was still in the same corner she'd dumped it in when they'd entered the room and he knew for a fact it didn't contain her running gear – that was in the bag left in the SUV – so where the hell could she be?

Jack was angry that she'd managed to sneak out again without him even waking up but the idea that he might have really lost her this time was truly enraging. What was it with this woman and her tendency to sneak out? Maybe her so-called run in Billings had been an escape attempt or a test run? It was downright embarrassing to think how miserably he'd failed then and apparently again today. He darted over to her bag and quickly rummaged through it, surprised to find her wallet and other necessities still present. Next was the closet, not that he thought she'd hidden herself in it or something but their coats were inside – including the car keys in his pocket! Everything was still there as they'd left it but Jack was already fumbling for his cell phone, intending to contact the NID to confess she'd given him the slip and get a search party out here.

It was just like Simmons not to answer when there was a crisis, he thought snidely when the phone continued to ring and simply ignoring the fact that it _was_ in the middle of the night – after all, it was two hours earlier in Washington State. Jack was about to reach for his sneakers when he realized his stuff – bag with clothes, including his socks – was still in the darkened bathroom. He snapped his phone shut when he got Simmons' voicemail and charged into the bathroom to get his bag off the counter. He was already reaching for it when he realized the shower was on. With the dim light from the motel room falling into the bathroom he could just make out a dark shape in the transparent shower cubicle. Jack hit the light switch and, despite his suspicion, was stunned to see the naked expanse of Sam's back as the light flickered on.

Sam yelped as the light turned on and turned around to see what was happening just as Jack had finished taking in her wet blond hair, bare back, and shapely six and long, toned legs. She let out a surprised squeak when seeing him in the doorway but seemed too shocked to actually move. He couldn't really help himself but continue his perusal where he'd left off; from her feet up to those legs, her taut stomach, firm breasts, flushed neck and face. Just as Jack was processing he'd gotten an eyeful of a gorgeous Samantha Carter she seemed to get out of her stupor and quickly tried to shield her feminine parts from him with her hands.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She hissed, before quickly turning her back on him.

Jack wasn't really complaining about either view, despite knowing better. He knew he should just apologize and leave as fast as he came in and probably hide under the bed because the look she'd sent him spoke volumes. But he was still angry at the stunt she'd pulled, making him think she'd run off while she'd gone to take a shower… in the dark, for some reason. "Looking for you," he replied much calmer than he felt.

"Excuse me?" She threw over her shoulder, glaring at him.

He threw up his hands and let out a deep sigh, which only seemed to infuriate her even more. "I thought you'd taken off in the middle of the night!"

"What?" Sam cried, fully turning towards him now. "Why would I do that?"

Jack had trouble keeping his eyes on her face when she angrily put her hands on her hip, seemingly forgetting she was naked. "How should I know?" He countered in frustration. "You weren't in your bed! And who the hell sneaks off to take a shower in the middle of the night? In the dark!" He cried out.

"I didn't want to wake you," she said through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowed in anger. "Now, do you mind?" She gestured towards the door, holding his gaze.

He knew she was basically kicking him out but he couldn't really help himself and leaned against the counter. His eyes slid from her icy blue ones to her alabaster skin, which looked extremely attractive with the soft pink tint from the warm water. "No, not really," he quipped and he found it intriguing when she made no new moves to cover parts of herself. As if she didn't want to acknowledge the vulnerable position she was in, standing there naked under the shower. Not that he thought there was anything that needed covering up… "Nothing there I haven't seen before," he added with a smirk, fighting with himself to keep his gaze trained on hers.

Sam looked like she was ready to tear him a new one but her self-control was obviously much better than his. "Excuse me?"

"Just saying, I'm ma-I _was_ married once and you know, we got a kid so trust me; I know what a woman looks like-"

"I don't care! I'm not your… ex," she said heatedly, "and I'd appreciate it if you'd leave. _Now_. And make sure this doesn't happen again because it's highly inappropriate, Colonel!"

Jack was surprised that she still managed to chastise him in her current state and blushed when her words hit home. She was right; it _was_ inappropriate and he was an ass for teasing her. Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore when he tried to imagine what she must feel like with him basically leering at her and what might be going through her mind right. "I'm sorry," he apologized, his gaze on the floor as he quickly turned to leave. "You're right, I really am sorry, Sam. I should have just, eh, left when I found you," he added with his back to her.

He didn't wait for a response and quickly got out of the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him. The light coming from the window above the door still shone brightly into the motel room as he made his way over to his bed, shaking his head at his own stupidity. God, but she was hot, especially when she was angry. He quickly shook himself, trying to stop his current train of thought. Sighing, he plopped down on the bed and wondered if he could do anything to make it up to her. That is assuming she'd ever talk to him again, of course.

The events had left him – all of him – wide awake and he groaned, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He'd known this whole sharing a room thing was a bad idea from the get-go! Jack glanced at the display of his cell phone, still clutched in his hand, and looked at the time. By the time Sam would get out of the bathroom it would be around oh four hundred hours. He highly doubted she'd feel safe enough to go back to sleep with him in the same room after his asinine actions, so he started packing up their things figuring they might as well hit the road again. When he reached over to make her bed as well he felt the clamminess of her sheets and felt like an asshole. If anyone knew what it was like to have nightmares plaguing your dreams it was him and apparently she'd gone through one bad enough to warrant a shower, only for his primitive male brain to kick in when getting an eyeful of her and act like a total ass!


	16. Day Forty Five of a New Life

**Day 45  
>0706 hours<br>Eau Claire, Wisconsin**

Sam rummaged through her bag for her sunglasses as she sat waiting in the car for O'Neill to return even though sunrise had only been about an hour ago, just after they'd entered Wisconsin. She'd enjoyed watching the panorama with the changing colors in the sky. It had been even more enjoyable than usual because it meant she had a legit reason for ignoring the Colonel behind the wheel. Right now he was out getting them breakfast after leaving her in the car, not that she'd wanted to join him or anything. No, she was too angry with him for his behavior in the bathroom to act pleasantly around him and it was a relief knowing she wasn't considered military in this timeline so she didn't even have to be respectful towards him.

At first she'd been too shocked with him ogling her in the shower to act and when she'd finally told him to get lost she'd quickly finished up her shower and gotten dressed. Luckily he hadn't been acting ignorant or teasing once she came out of the bathroom – he'd also apologized again – and he'd been smart enough to realize that the motel room was too small for the two of them at that moment. Hell, it had been too small for her anger alone. So despite the few hours of sleep and the lingering memory of her nightmare, she'd agreed to take off in the early hours of the morning instead of trying to catch some shuteye. Perhaps she'd be a bit more comfortable later today when her lack of sleep would catch up with her and she'd feel safe enough to fall asleep in his company. It wasn't that she didn't trust him anymore after the shower incident but there was a new sort of tension between them that left her unable to lower her guard or relax.

Yawning, Sam leaned back in her seat. For a moment she eyed the radio, wondering if Colonel O'Neill would object to having some music break the awkward silence between them when they'd head off for Illinois. She'd have to wait until he got back since he'd turned off the ignition and had taken the car keys with him. Putting on her sunglasses and running a hand through her hair, she looked out over the parking lot. A vaguely familiar-looking man, about her height and age with brownish hair was walking towards his car, a sedan, on the other side of the lot, carrying two coffee cups with him. Sam glanced at the empty cups from a Minnesotan drive-through sitting in between her and O'Neill's chairs, wondering if perhaps she should have given the Colonel more than a noncommittal grunt when he mentioned getting them breakfast because she sure could use a caffeine kick right about now.

It had actually surprised her he'd been willing to leave her alone in the car considering his obvious distrust when it came to her. Not that she could really blame him for that seeing how she _had_ snuck off in Montana to work on her mission. For a career military man like O'Neill – any Jack O'Neill, no matter what timeline or reality – it had to be somewhat shocking, maybe even embarrassing to realize she'd given him the slip and he'd only discovered it hours later by chance. It was also one of the reasons she didn't really blame him for barging into the bathroom while she'd been showering. After all, he thought she had run off again and probably didn't expect her to be there. With the light in the bathroom being so bright she'd decided to leave it off, knowing she would be able to shower in the semi-dark with just the moonlight streaming in the small window, as not to risk waking him up with the light falling into the darkened motel room through the window above the bathroom door. Well, that and not wanting to be confronted by the harsh lighting herself after her nightmare.

It hadn't surprised her to learn she'd been right the day before, thinking her awful dreams would continue to haunt her when she'd fall asleep at night. They'd been worse than during the day and her subconscious had plagued her by making her endure Jack's death again and this time Colonel O'Neill had been there too. He'd been questioning her motives, wondering why she hadn't stopped Ba'al and Daniel, of all people, had joined him and accused her of not doing enough while Cam had just stood there, pulling on her arm to get her to leave with him. It had left her feeling confused and distraught when she woke up all sweaty, with her blood racing and her heart aching for Jack, so she'd quietly slipped into the bathroom, discarded her pajamas and stepped into the shower.

O'Neill had startled her when he turned on the light because she hadn't heard his approach or the opening of the door with her head under the stream of water, hoping it would chase the last remnants of her nightmare away. When she turned around to see who'd flipped the light switch she already knew it could only be him but it had taken her brain longer to catch up with that than it took her eyes to adjust to the bright light. Seeing him taking his time to look her over had quite literally stunned her even though deep down she knew it shouldn't because, like Daniel and Janet used to tease her, it was a universal constant that Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter were attracted to each other, no matter what reality – or in this case, timeline – they found themselves in.

She'd witnessed it herself after all when Doctor Carter – and Kawalsky – had visited the SGC almost ten years ago and Jack had found himself… well, not quite enamored but certainly fascinated by the counterpart of his 2IC who'd been married to _his_ counterpart in an alternate reality. Two years prior to that Daniel had seen it in yet another alternate reality and Sam had gotten more than enough confirmation from all her – and other SG-1 – counterparts two years ago, when an alternate SG-1 had opened a wormhole through a black hole and used an energy weapon to blast a bridge into her universe, inadvertently causing a ripple effect which resulted in the base being overrun by SG teams from alternate realities.

Besides, it wasn't as if she herself was immune to this O'Neill. Sam recognized he was attractive and lately it had become harder and harder to separate him from her Jack in her mind. So it really shouldn't have surprised her to learn that this timeline's version of her Jack found her attractive too. The problem was that she hadn't really picked up on anything from him – no real flirting, no lingering looks – and if she were honest, she hadn't really expected it either because she knew he was still married to Sara here, despite his lying. On the other hand, she did have her suspicions about his real assignment and how far he'd be willing to go to stop her from restoring the timeline to save his son for weeks now. Then again, it was possible she was simply transferring traits from her Jack onto this O'Neill? She knew Jack would never break his vows and not just because she knew he loved her and they'd waited years to be together but also because he was loyal and kept his promises. Up until last night she would have thought the same applied to Colonel O'Neill.

Maybe that was the root of the problem. With Jack it was about the whole package, not just the way she looked and she'd more or less assumed it was true for all their alternate counterparts too considering they'd always been working together. O'Neill didn't really know her – not her history, not her personality, not her likes and dislikes – and up until now he hadn't really shown an interest in getting to know her intimately. She couldn't say he'd been paying any real attention to her physical assets, although there had been that nagging doubt about the nature of his assignment. Of course she couldn't really ignore the fact that Sara was a tall blonde like her, so it seemed Jack had a type. On the other hand, Laira and Kerry – even Kynthia – didn't really fit that description.

Sam wasn't sure what to think at this point or how to deal with it. Last night she'd gotten angry with him and instinctively covered herself as best she could once her brain kicked in and told her this was Colonel O'Neill, not Jack. But if she were honest, the crux of the matter hadn't been the slow onceover or even his clumsy attempts at downplaying the situation, which had only served to make him sound like a callous bastard. No, it was what she'd seen in his eyes – surprise, appreciation, lust – and the way her body had reacted to his dark heated gaze. She'd been tingling all over under his attention and just for a moment he had seemed like her Jack, only he would have respected her privacy or joined her in the shower. Then reality had crashed down on her and she'd finally been able to tell him off, ignoring his looks and refusing to feel embarrassed about her nudity – she wasn't very self-conscious when it came to her body, not after all her years in the service.

Right now, she couldn't decide whether she was angry with O'Neill or her traitorous body over the incident so she'd decided to stay mad at him and mostly ignore him. So far it had been working and she could tell he was abashed about it, perhaps even chastising himself for his behavior. That was fine with Sam because at least then she wouldn't have to deal with her own issues and conflicting emotions. She knew she had to resolve it soon though, for her own sanity and maybe she could even use the situation or the Colonel's feelings to her advantage if need be – as a final resort, perhaps.

Sighing, Sam straightened in her seat and looked out over the parking lot again. The sedan was still parked on the other side but the man with the coffees was now sitting in it – she couldn't see the other occupants from her vantage point. Just as her stomach rumbled hungrily she spotted O'Neill passing the sedan and coming in her direction. Finally. She allowed a small smile when he opened the door and handed her a large cup of coffee and a small bag with pastries.

"That took a bit longer than I'd expected," he said by way of an apology as he slid on his chair and closed his door.

"Thanks," she murmured, gesturing with the coffee before taking sip.

O'Neill grinned as he took the bag from her. "At least you're still here," he joked.

Sam simply shrugged, not in the mood to talk to him yet or forgive him for the fact he and his presence in the bathroom had caused her so much confusion.

"Want some macaroons with your coffee?"

"What?" She frowned as the Colonel's question pulled her from her thoughts and, seeing the confection, shook her head. "No, I don't like macaroons."

"Oh." His expression fell but to his credit he simply put it aside and dug into the bag again. "Danish, donut or maybe a bagel?"

Taking the bag from him she picked out a breakfast snack herself. "Did you want me to drive?"

"Nah, it's only been a few hours. I figured we could lunch once we're in Illinois and then afterwards we can switch," O'Neill said. He took a sip of coffee, handed her his cup, put the key into the ignition and turned the radio on before driving out of the parking lot.

Sam immediately recognized the CD that started playing as one Jack had in his car for their trips up to the cabin and quickly hit the off button. "I have a headache," she mumbled when the Colonel sent her a look.

"Ah, probably from the lack of sleep. You should try and get some shuteye," he suggested cautiously as they entered the road and continued on their way.

* * *

><p><strong>1100 hours<br>I-90E  
>Illinois<strong>

Jack eyed his passenger from the corner of his eye and seeing she was still gazing out the window, snuck a hand into the bag with pastries to get the last donut. It would be a shame to let them go stale so he quickly took a bite from the vanilla chocolate glazed donut. Hmm, his favorite. Sam seemed to have given up on the food a while ago and had turned away from him as much as she could, seemingly deep in thought. She'd been quiet since getting out of the bathroom, only giving curt answers or grunts whenever he asked her something.

About an hour ago he'd noticed that she'd closed her eyes behind her sunglasses but he wasn't sure if she had actually been asleep or pretending so she could ignore him. Considering the dark circles he'd spotted under her eyes earlier he'd understand if she decided to take a nap. He had even encouraged her after breakfast but was pretty sure his words were meaningless to her today. Not that he could blame her after his earlier behavior in the bathroom but he was out of ideas on how to make it up to her. Apologizing hadn't helped so far and that would probably get old real fast so he'd stopped after saying he was sorry a handful of times. Right now he could only hope that she hadn't learned how to hold a grudge from his counterpart…

Stuffing the last piece of donut in his mouth, Jack contemplated what to do next. Sam had nixed the idea of listening to the radio or one of his perfectly fine CDs, claiming she had a headache and the tense silence was getting to him. Normally he could ignore such things, maybe doodle a bit during a boring meeting, fiddle with something or simply run off but being cooped up in the car for at least another couple of hundred miles kind of made any of those options impossible. His hand was already reaching for his coffee to wash his snack down when he realized he'd finished that hours ago so he reluctantly grabbed his bottle of water. He grimaced as he took a sip of the tepid water and decided they should either get some new snacks or start picking out a place for lunch.

Jack's gaze silently slid back to Sam, taking in her still form and wondering if he should break the silence and risk her wrath. Perhaps a bit of small talk would gently ease them back into the easygoing banter they'd had so far? He wouldn't exactly say they were friends already but they had been friendly and certainly gotten along pretty well considering everything. Now he was worried the shower incident may have ruined all the progress they'd made – or would ever make. He was pretty sure this wasn't what the NID and Landry had in mind when they'd told him to get closer to her!

He sighed, thinking about his assignment. Up until yesterday he hadn't fully realized how attractive Sam was and since they'd gotten in the car this morning he'd been stealing a glimpse of her every now and then. He couldn't help but notice how her summer dress clung to her body or how well toned her legs were. The image of her in the shower was probably burned on his retina because he seemed unable to shake it off or stop thinking about her now that he knew what was hidden under those clothes. Not that she'd been trying to hide anything as far as he could tell; he'd seen her in a few curve hugging outfits and sweaty workout clothes before, after all. He'd even noticed the sway of her hips and that she had a pretty face with huge blue eyes and kissable lips. Yet he'd never _really_ thought about it, simply because he was married and while he would certainly notice an attractive woman he just wasn't interested in entertaining such thoughts for very long because he had a wife.

Now something else was bothering him about the entire situation; so far he'd shied away from thinking about what might be asked of him the closer he got to Samantha Carter because he simply didn't want to think about cheating, hoping it wouldn't come to that. After all, he'd told himself a few times there was no reason she would even be interested in him and that his friendship – and shoulder to cry on if necessary – would be enough. The problem was that now Jack realized he was attracted to her and that he might actually get to like her even more if he got to know her better. He was pretty sure she had a wicked sense of humor, was wildly intelligent and would be downright gorgeous if she smiled a bit more. She hadn't really opened up to him and it was obvious that she didn't want to but he'd already been able to tell all that from the few glimpses he'd seen when she let her guard down.

So, if this was going through his mind after knowing her for less than three months then what the hell had his counterpart's view been of her? That guy had worked with her closely for eight years and he hadn't been married at the time! Sure, Sam had mentioned he had found someone but she hadn't elaborated on the how, when and who. Jack thought of himself as an honorable and loyal man and he could easily imagine Sam spouting off rules and regulations from how she'd scolded him for his inappropriate behavior in the bathroom, but would his counterpart really have stuck to the fraternization regulations all that time? Did they even have those in their timeline?

Sam was attractive, funny, and intelligent, had the mentality of a soldier to balance her geeky side and saved the world on a regular basis. Surely his single counterpart hadn't been able to resist her when Jack himself – married and barely knowing her – found her interesting? Hell, he'd been highly aware of his body's response to her earlier today and now he started wondering if maybe he hadn't imagined those jolts of electricity and feeling as if burned whenever he touched her. "Crap," he muttered darkly, scowling at the road in front of him. He really could have lived without this realization…

"What?" Sam asked.

Jack's head snapped in her direction, wondering if he'd showed anything of his inner turmoil. This woman had the ability of reading him like a book sometimes, after all. "Nothing."

"Okay," she drawled, frowning at him.

"Do you have any suggestions for lunch?" He said after a beat, breaking the awkward silence that threatened to engulf them again.

Sam shrugged, checked her watch and the GPS. "We'll reach Chicago in about an hour…?"

"Sure, sounds good," he agreed. Chancing another peek at her, Jack decided to just dive in and go ahead with the small talk before his window of opportunity would close and she'd be back to staring out her window. "You know, your archeologist friend was wrong…"

"Really?" She retorted skeptically, her tone of voice making it sound more like 'I highly doubt that' and suddenly Jack could totally envision her 'Yes Sir'-ing and talking about 'all due respect' without really meaning it. Like he usually did. It was kind of creepy.

"Yeah sure you betcha," he grinned at her. When she simply raised an elegant eyebrow he rolled his eyes and continued. "I'm not actually from Minnesota but-"

"You're from Chicago," she interrupted him. "But you grew up in Minnesota mostly."

Jack frowned, surprised she was aware of that – he certainly hadn't mentioned it to her or her friends – and that she was sharing it with him. At least she was still talking, he thought. "Yeah…" He said slowly. A small and mysterious smile forming on her lips was all the reply she was giving him. "How did you know that and why are you smiling?"

"Oh, eh," Sam stammered, abashed at being caught. She flushed under his scrutiny and shrugged. "When we were still in the field the, eh, then-Colonel O'Neill introduced himself as 'Jack of the Windy City'," she smirked. At his confused look she elaborated. "It was on Chulak, Teal'c's planet. The Jaffa have the tendency to introduce themselves by name and where they're from since they don't use last names. Drey'auc of the Cord'ai Plains, Fro'tak of the High Cliffs, Bra'tac of Chulak…"

"Ah," he mumbled, recalling the alien's name and species – Jaffa – from the interviews. It was an odd name and reminded him of the cup of coffee he wanted. The lack of last names probably also explained why they had such… alien names. They had to be original of course, you couldn't have two Jacks from Chulak because then no one would know them apart!

"Master Bra'tac called the General 'O'Neill of Minnesota', though," Sam mumbled. "Kind of like 'Hammond of Texas'," she mused aloud.

Jack was reminded again of Jackson's interviews where he talked extensively about General Hammond, which he thought was kind of ironic considering the man was now his CO. Just like he'd apparently been to his counterpart. Sam had only briefly mentioned him when explaining about the startup of their Stargate Program and the archeologist and the flyboy had talked about something called Homeworld Security, which his counterpart had taken over from Hammond. "What's with the hand gesture?"

She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head in mirth and Jack felt some of his earlier tension ebb away. Maybe they could move past the incident sooner than he'd expected? "It's because of his bald head. It's very shiny with the bright lights in the gate room," she added.

"And this, eh, Master Bracket has a full head of hair? I thought he was old?"

"Yes, he's got to be at least… over a hundred and forty," Sam mumbled. "But he usually wears his armor, including a skull cap."

"Ah, I see," Jack muttered. This had to be one of the strangest conversations he'd ever had and the worst part was that he believed every word from her mouth too! Somewhere down the line he'd stopped thinking about her and her friends as freaks and started believing all this talk about aliens, space wars and alternate timelines! Seeing Sam yawn from the corner of his eye he shot her a grin. "We still have about an hour. Why don't you take a nap?" He only just stopped himself from saying something about her not getting enough sleep last night and reminding her of the incident, and had to bite his tongue to keep from mentioning her nightmares.

After a brief moment of hesitation she nodded and settled in her seat, resting her head against the passenger window.

* * *

><p><strong>1245 hours<br>Downtown diner  
>Chicago, Illinois<strong>

Standing just outside of the diner Jack automatically scanned the parking lot as he was listening to Simmons on the phone. The man had called him earlier today but he'd been unable to answer it considering Sam had been in the car next to him. It probably wouldn't make a very good impression nor would it help their frail relationship if he'd given the NID an update and explanation about his midnight phone call in her presence. So, he'd ignored it and waited for the right time to call back. Simmons had beaten him to it, calling just as he and Sam been in the middle of their lunch.

Jack had left her at the table to take the call and had just finished explaining the misunderstanding that had made him call Simmons without going into detail about what had happened next, when his eyes landed on a dark nondescript sedan on the opposite side of the parking lot. He'd seen it before; earlier today in Wisconsin he realized when he noted the license plate. Had they been followed by someone? Looking over his shoulder he saw Sam was just finishing up her meal at their table and relaxed. Maybe his lack of sleep was making him slightly paranoid?

He listened as Simmons continued on the other end of the phone, giving a brief update about Sam's teammates; there weren't any changes in Mitchell's status but Jackson had apparently indicated he wanted to look for a job to his handler and MacKenzie had agreed he was ready and that it would probably help in his recovery.

Every now and then Jack would mutter something to indicate he was still there – albeit only listening with half an ear – but most of his attention was on Sam in the diner. She'd moved to the counter to order something to drink by the looks of it and seemed to keep an eye on the door, presumably waiting for him to return. Then, when she got her coffee she turned around and clumsily bumped into another customer. The man was approximately six feet tall with light brown hair and her hot beverage spilled all over his suit. Jack frowned as the two of them started talking – apologizing probably – and dabbing the man's shirt and tie with napkins because there was no way Sam hadn't seen him come in or walk by her from her vantage point. Hell, even he himself had seen the guy enter the diner.

His distrust grew as introductions were made and Sam led him to their table to continue the conversation. By the time she shot the guy a dazzling smile and was touching his arm lightly Jack's eyes had narrowed in suspicion. It had nothing do with the fact that she'd been sullen, curt and basically pissed off all morning he told himself. No, it was just suspicious that she'd apparently accidentally on purpose bumped into the man and was now being all friendly with him. Jack knew he pretty much deserved her attitude after how he'd acted in the bathroom but still…

Just as he was about to cut Simmons off and go inside to interrupt Sam's friendly conversation with the stranger, the NID operative changed the subject and mentioned the new tail he'd sent after them once they'd entered Wisconsin and that Jack was supposed to check in again with him in forty-eight hours.

"Fine, whatever. Send me the schmucks' files before their incompetence gets the best of them and I mistake them for a threat and run 'em off the road," Jack grumbled into the phone. He should have known the NID would want to keep an eye on him and Sam; they always wanted their fingers in all the pies even if it was none of their business – well, especially when that was the case. It wasn't like Jack would try to run away with the woman or anything! Kennedy and his cronies had to know he had as much at stake as them if Sam managed to restore the timeline. There was no way he would let anyone hurt Tyler or, even worse, erase him from the timeline, which was exactly what would happen according to Doctor Lee and his colleagues if he failed to stop Sam from executing whatever harebrained plan she may or may not have! "O'Neill out," he added, disconnecting the call and ignoring Simmons' reply.

Inside the diner Sam was still talking to the stranger, who was smiling at her, while Jack looked on from outside. He was contemplating whether to go in, interrupt them and take off or wait for the information from Simmons before making a move just in case the guy would send it while they were on the road and there wouldn't be an opportunity to check it out without Sam catching on. His eyes darted back over the parking lot as he stuffed his cell phone in his jeans pocket and walked towards the entrance. Jack was about to go in when his phone beeped, indicating he'd received a data transfer and went back to stand in the shadows to check it out.

Skimming through the info and glancing back at his charge and her companion, he groaned. "Oh, for crying out loud," he muttered under his breath as he stalked back to the door and went in. The guy Sam was talking to was one Agent Barrett from the NID, assigned to keep an eye on them by following them to Atlantic City! His partner was probably waiting for him in that suspicious sedan right across the parking lot! Jack was pretty sure that if he had Sam's brain he would be able to calculate just how miniscule the chance was she really hadn't seen the NID operative when she'd turned around, spilling her coffee all over the man.

It kinda pissed him off that she had picked up on it earlier than he had and he wondered why and how. Obviously he couldn't let either of them know he knew since Sam wasn't supposed to know this Barrett guy's status and he couldn't exactly let her know he was in contact with the NID. If they lived in a perfect world – or timeline – she wasn't even supposed to know about the NID tail but apparently Simmons' men had been too careless in the past. Jack wasn't sure if he was more pissed off about Sam spotting the guy or the guy letting himself be seen. Never mind the fact the agent never should have made contact with her! It didn't really matter she'd bumped into him; he should have just walked away and requested a replacement. Instead he was still talking to her!

Jack walked over to the table where his tuna sandwich was still waiting for him, along with Sam and her new friend. Scowling, he stopped next to them, waiting for his presence to be acknowledged. "Made a new friend, Alice?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm.

Blue eyes blinked up at him quizzically for a moment and Sam's easy smile waned as her brows slightly knitted together. He didn't buy her confusion. "Um, yes. This is Malcolm, Malcolm this is Colonel Jack O'Neill. I accidentally ran into Malcolm and spilled my coffee over him," she said with an abashed smile, gesturing at the stained shirt.

"It's no big deal," the guy said dismissively. "Colonel, eh, nice to meet you."

"Yeah sure you betcha," he replied. Ignoring the Agent's hand, Jack leaned over to grab his sandwich. "It's time to go, Alice. You can drive," he handed her the car keys. "That way I can finish my lunch. I'll just get us both some coffee to go."

Sam nodded her agreement even though her dismay was clear as day when she looked at Agent Barrett of the NID. "I really am sorry about the coffee."

"Don't worry about it," Barrett smiled. "I enjoyed talking with you."

"Yeah, it was nice to, eh, meet you, but we have to get going," she replied with a mysterious smile and a blush.

Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation and motioned for her to get up before making his way over to the counter, assuming she'd follow. Now that he knew who this NID guy was and had seen Sam with him, he was sure she'd made him. Perhaps it was time to give Simmons another call and yell at him about his people breaking protocol and getting made by a mere civilian. Well, Sam probably didn't really count as a civilian but still. Something had to be done about this. Right now Barrett couldn't risk being seen by Sam again on their next stop or in Atlantic City and she certainly shouldn't get the chance to spot the guy's partner, who was presumably still in their car.

God, even if Jack would manage to win her over in the near future there was still a very good chance the NID would blow the entire assignment! Not that he was anxious to move their relationship forward or anything but if Sam had something up her sleeve that he hadn't seen coming, it would be him and his family paying the price for it. And right now, with her having snuck around behind his back and making NID agents before he did, it suddenly didn't seem as preposterous as it had in the beginning. Jack knew he couldn't afford any more mistakes with her or from the NID.

He quickly paid for the coffees to go and walked with her to the car, not giving Barrett or his sedan a second look just in case she was keeping an eye out too. "So, Malcolm seemed nice," he commented when they were seated in the SUV.

"He was," Sam mumbled as she started the car. "I figured I might as well enjoy myself while you were gone."

Jack glanced at her, silently wondering if that was a dig at him or not but her face betrayed nothing as they drove out of the parking lot. One thing he knew for sure though; it was going to be a long drive. "Well, at least one of us had fun," he murmured. "Next stop Toledo, Ohio? That's only four and a half hours from here. We can crash there, take off for Atlantic City in the morning and check into the hotel before dinner."

She nodded in agreement as she backed out of the parking lot. "It'd be about time," she muttered, driving off.


	17. Day Forty Seven of a New Life

**Day 47  
>Hotel Room<br>Atlantic City, New Jersey**

Sam lay stretched out in the huge tub of her bathroom, finally relaxing her tense muscles in the bubbles and was surrounded by some vanilla-scented candles. After all those days on the road and sleeping in cheap motels her body really needed this and at least this time she didn't have to worry about Colonel O'Neill walking in on her considering they had separate hotel rooms – and she'd locked her door. Expensive and rather luxurious hotel rooms even. Not that she had to worry about the costs since she'd already won quite a bit of money earlier today.

Of course her goal was to get more than enough money to finance her marine salvaging company so she had to spend her winnings wisely. Her most recent purchase had been a prepaid cell phone, which she'd used to contact her secretary, Melinda, who'd flown out to New York earlier this week. Sam had sent her on an assignment to check out several buildings for appropriate headquarters for the company in New Jersey, but not too far from Daniel's apartment in New York. Once he would get the job offer he'd have to be able to persuade his handlers or maybe even the NID that it was a good match so his travel distance was important too.

Melinda had found something in Trenton and in two days Sam would go there after giving the Colonel the slip. Tomorrow was Sunday so that was out and she worried that perhaps it would be too soon for O'Neill to let her roam the casinos freely. If she approved of the property she'd probably have to make a down payment too, so she had to make sure she also had enough money. That meant Monday would be best and hopefully she'd be able to ditch her NID tail in traffic if they would even realize she had snuck out.

She smiled, recalling Malcolm's facial expression when she'd bumped into him. He'd looked like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar and wanted to get out of there fast, but she'd taken advantage of knowing his counterpart was attracted to her and had used her charms on him. It wasn't something she was proud of but after spotting and recognizing him in the diner she'd assumed it was him she'd seen on the parking lot in Saint Cloud too. So she had to make sure she was right and after talking with him for a few minutes – in which he'd only introduced himself as Malcolm, while she'd used her full alias – she had instinctively known this Malcolm Barrett was also with the NID and his behavior told her he was supposed to keep an eye on her. Perhaps on her and Jack. Maybourne, or whoever was pulling the strings at the NID, probably wanted to make sure she wouldn't overpower or outmaneuver Colonel O'Neill and take off. Or maybe they were afraid he would help her escape, who knew?

Either way, they probably wanted to be safe rather than sorry but obviously hadn't counted on her _knowing_ any of their counterparts from her timeline. That was a good sign since she hadn't mentioned the NID in any of her interviews and now she knew neither had Daniel and Cam. Sam wasn't sure if O'Neill knew who Malcolm was and why he'd been there, but she was hoping he didn't or at least hadn't requested a replacement because now she knew who to look out for when she went out to Trenton. It hadn't been her intention to take the chance with the Colonel but he'd unexpectedly gotten back into the diner and it would have been suspicious if she'd unceremoniously shoved Malcolm out the backdoor or something like that.

Now she would have to take a chance with them; even if O'Neill had alerted the NID that Malcolm had interacted with her it would probably be two days before he could be replaced, unless they had more and better replacements here. As far as she knew Malcolm had been one of the best NID agents in her timeline. It had been tempting to send him off with a 'See you in Atlantic City, Agent Barrett!' but instead she'd just simply said her goodbyes and followed Jack out. At least now she was aware of the NID tailing her and could take the proper precautions… She suspected they would monitor the hotel from outside because she hadn't seen any possible NID agents inside. They probably relied on Colonel O'Neill for that since they would stand out in the hotel or casino if they were just lurking and they had no grounds to request to see the hotel's surveillance – not without blowing their and her own cover.

Luckily for her a slot machine had distracted O'Neill long enough for her to buy her cell phone and she'd double-checked for any possible NID agents. Sam hadn't been sure about where to keep it without him finding it if he somehow got access to her room and would look through her things so she'd duct-taped it to the underside of the exterior ledge of her window just to be safe. She only needed it to stay in touch with Melinda and check Therra's email account for emails from Ben. He'd submitted the last of the relevant paperwork last week and was awaiting a response from her with the information on the new headquarters so he could wrap that up too and then they could buy their equipment and hire the right people – Daniel among them, of course. There were plenty of wireless hot spots for her to access with the cell phone and none the NID could trace back to her, not without the phone itself anyway.

Sam sighed, contemplating whether she could afford to stay in her bath for another ten minutes or if it was better to get out now. It was so much better than the quick showers she'd taken and she was pretty sure she it was even more comfortable than the motel beds she'd slept in. It certainly was more relaxing than the SUV's seats. It probably helped that she was alone here and didn't have O'Neill around her. He still confused her more than he should, affected her more than he was supposed to given their working relationship. She was just an assignment to him, right? And he was nothing more than someone whose presence she had to tolerate and perhaps use to her advantage. After all, she had to make do with what she had and she already knew quite a bit about the Colonel from her experiences with Jack. If O'Neill was using her then she would just have to repay the favor, Sam decided.

Her mind made up, she unplugged the tub and turned on the shower to rinse off. It worried her a bit that she still had trouble discerning her own feelings, in particular the lingering anger that was fading but still present since the Colonel had gotten an eyeful of her. She'd continued to blame his behavior all through their eleven hour drive from Toledo yesterday and had declined his invitation for dinner, instead opting to stay in her room after checking into the hotel and ordering room service. The night before she'd eaten alone in her motel room as well, choosing her own company over his because of her troubling feelings and preoccupied mind, which had only gotten worse after chatting with Malcolm in the diner. The tension between her and O'Neill had gotten to her in the car and she'd barely managed some small talk; luckily he'd realized this and left her alone for the most part, probably assuming she was still angry with him.

She was just glad she had the next four days to get herself together, get over these confusing feelings and attraction before they had to drive all the way back to Rainier; being stuck in a car with him for hours on end definitely wasn't good for her peace of mind. Normally she was much better at compartmentalizing and keeping a clear head, even back when she and Jack had still been working together they'd been able to overcome such moments and the tension between them. Of course, that had been something they'd both wanted and needed. When it came to Colonel O'Neill Sam wasn't sure what he wanted in regards to her. Yes, he was attracted to her but so far he hadn't really acted on it or given it away up until the incident in the bathroom but she still had her suspicions about the nature of his assignment and so far his actions hadn't really dissuaded her.

Groaning, Sam turned off the shower and wrapped her hair in a towel around her head. Thinking about O'Neill and his possible motives were distracting; she had to keep her eye on the mission. Who knows, maybe _that_ was the NID's true goal, to confuse her by saddling her with the counterpart of the man she loved, the one who'd died in front of her and still haunted her dreams. It was a frightening realization to think that Ba'al's failsafe device may have actually succeeded where he, the other Goa'uld and even the Ori had failed. Saving the planet was difficult enough but not only was she in an alternate timeline with no definitive explanation yet as to how Ba'al had managed to travel back in time, Jack was dead and she was separated from her friends – she could only theorize about what had happened to Teal'c and Vala – and she had to deal with Jack's counterpart on a weekly if not daily basis while unable to discern his true motives.

To top it all off there were still too many unknowns about time travel and Sam had no way of knowing if her plan to restore the timeline would actually work the way she intended, simply because she didn't know what device Ba'al had used and how she could possibly find it. So she had found another way – or so she hoped – but with everything going on in her 'life' right now she couldn't be certain it would work. This time there was no room for mistakes or do-overs so she just had to shake O'Neill and everything that came with his presence off and focus. She had a mission to do and she couldn't afford the distraction, not with everything on the line.

The only problem with that was that she had agreed to have dinner with him in the restaurant before going into the casinos, Sam thought with dismay as she started toweling off. It was a fancy restaurant and she didn't feel comfortable wearing just jeans and a shirt – to either the restaurant or the casino – so she'd picked out her black dress after unpacking her things and now it was lying on the bed, waiting for her. It almost felt like they were going on a date… Great, just what she needed!

Knowing she would be spending a lot of time with Colonel O'Neill one way or another in the foreseeable future, she decided to try a bit harder in being nice to him. After all, she was already aware that some of her anger had been misdirected at him and there might come a time when she was going to need him. God, at times like these she really missed Teal'c and his wisdom. Somehow the alien Jaffa always managed to put everything in perspective and give her the strength to do whatever was necessary to pull through. Her friendship with him was different in that way from the one she shared with Daniel or even her relationship with Jack. Despite there being no undomesticated equines involved she had barely seen Teal'c since taking command of Atlantis because he was busy with the Jaffa; he'd only managed to come out once at her request to help Ronon prep for an interview with the IOA and she'd hardly had the chance to catch up with him then or before they went to Ba'al's extraction ceremony. Of all her friends Teal'c had been the most difficult to stay in touch with and she'd missed him terribly.

Sam sighed, again feeling the ache in her heart that resurfaced every time she contemplated the fate of her friends. At least she knew Daniel and Cam were relatively fine but she had no idea what had happened to Teal'c and Vala. They had vanished even before Ba'al had gotten loose and she could only hope that meant the timeline was being rewritten prior to Vala's disappearance and that they _were_ here in this alternate timeline somewhere. But in what capacity? Ba'al's last words hadn't been without meaning knowing him, so there was a good chance he'd actively pursued Teal'c and snatched him from Cronus' domain or Chulak to make him his First Prime. A shudder ran through her when she realized what that meant for Vala; perhaps Ba'al had intervened to prevent the Tok'ra from removing the Goa'uld and she was still imprisoned in her own body by Qetesh, ruling alongside Ba'al himself…

Once she was done toweling off Sam put on some clean underwear, dried and combed her hair and took the wet towels back to the bathroom. Taking the still burning candles with her she placed them in a large circle on the floor at the foot of her bed and sat down in its center. If she couldn't confide in Teal'c and draw from his strength and wisdom the next best thing would probably be to kelno'reem like he'd taught her so many years ago. It had already helped her through the weeks of interrogations and right now she could certainly use some peace of mind and clarity…

* * *

><p><strong>2123 hours<br>Hotel Restaurant**

Jack leaned back in his chair with a small smile, listening to Sam as she talked about her plans for later in the casino while he took a sip of his wine. For some reason unbeknownst to him she had done a complete one-eighty since she had gone up to her hotel room this afternoon and had been friendly and pleasant all throughout their meal. It was a nice change from the past few days, especially after she had declined to have dinner with him in Toledo and when they'd arrived here yesterday after a long drive filled with oppressive silences and tensions thick enough to be cut with a knife. As a matter of fact he had more or less expected the same treatment today but she seemed to be in a good mood.

Perhaps it was because they were finally in Atlantic City and she'd already collected some winnings or maybe she had something up her sleeve… Either way it made him suspicious. He had seen firsthand how charming she could be with that NID agent and give him the cold shoulder moments later. She had already proven to be more astute than he'd given her credit for so he wasn't taking any chances. However, that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy her company. He'd already known she was a genius – like her dead counterpart – but tonight he had also learned she was good company.

Not only that but she was very engaging as well and spoke animatedly with her bright eyes sparking with intelligence. Sam also turned out to be very charming tonight and that combined with her light makeup, little black dress and endless legs made her very appealing. Dangerous too. Jack was almost ashamed to admit it but ever since seeing her in that shower he'd been highly aware of her, even when she was just sitting next to him or asleep in the car. It was ridiculous because, like he'd told her it wasn't as if he'd never seen a naked woman before. Yes, she was good looking and had a great body but there were plenty of women like that – granted, most weren't nearing their forties but still. There was just something about Sam…

It was a disturbing thought, especially for him because at this stage in his life he wasn't really _looking_ at other women in that way. Sure, he'd notice an attractive woman but that was more down to his training and subconscious evaluating of strangers but he couldn't recall the last time he'd been this sexually interested in another woman. It was probably a very normal male reaction but he'd never thought of himself as one of those men following their basic and primal urges… Gah, spending all his time with certain scientists and doctors were getting to him, now he was even starting to sound like them!

"What?" Sam's voice broke through his thoughts.

Jack blinked in surprise and glanced down at his nearly empty plate. "What what?"

"Nothing, it's just… you were smirking."

"I was not," he said with a scowl.

"Yes you were."

"Was not."

Sam sighed, shaking her head and pushing away from the table. "Never mind, I'm not getting into one of those arguments with you," she replied with a smile. "If you'll excuse me I'll go to the ladies room."

"Yeah sure," he muttered, watching as she got up. There was that charming smile of hers again. Jack had to fight hard not to stare at her legs as she stepped aside, with her dress ending just above her knees. The dress itself wasn't provocative or anything with its cap sleeves and square neckline, but it was alluring just the same. Or maybe even more so because it didn't even show a hint of cleavage, but it certainly showed off her toned arms and legs he decided. Oh and the square back collar dipped lower than the front, showing off more of the slightly freckled skin he'd already seen a few days ago, especially with her hair up, he noticed when she turned around to head to the ladies room.

Glancing around the restaurant and seeing several men following Sam with her eyes Jack was annoyed – with them and himself. Considering where the men's eyes were lingering he was pretty sure their interest had nothing to do with Sam's likeness to the late Mission Commander, which was already diminished by the way she was wearing her hair – very unlike MC Carter – and it irked him that it bothered him. He was a happily married man, for crying out loud! At the same time though he also realized he couldn't recall the last time he'd enjoyed having dinner with someone so much; Sara always thought it was a waste of money and more often than not reluctantly accompanied him the few times he suggested it. But even at home most of their dinners weren't nearly as interesting or enjoyable as this one and he – or more like his secretive job – couldn't take all the blame for that considering most of his work wasn't all that classified anymore since his reassignment to training exercises and he'd never even broached that topic with Sam! Perhaps he and Sara had become too set in their ways, too comfortable with each other? Oh God, he'd never wanted them to turn into his parents…

Jack shook himself, trying to stop thinking so much – maybe Sam was rubbing off on him. The differences were probably down to the newness of the situation, to the mysteries surrounding his dinner companion he eventually decided. He knew Sara through and through; it would have been strange if he didn't considering they'd been married for nearly thirty years. Sam, on the other hand, he hardly knew and despite her suddenly good mood tonight she wasn't making getting to know her easier tonight. Then again, he would be surprised and probably even a bit disappointed if that wasn't on purpose.

His eyes slid back to the table, taking in their plates and glasses, wondering what was next. She'd eaten most of her food, unlike many of the salad-eating women at the other tables and he'd cleared his plate. He always had room for a nice piece of cake or even pie, but he wasn't sure about Sam. It was probably best if she ate a bit more seeing as she'd already polished off two glasses of wine and was on her third – which could possibly be another explanation behind her increasingly good mood – and he was pretty sure there'd be more alcoholic drinks in the casino. Not that he expected her to get drunk or even tipsy but last night she'd had two or three drinks as well while playing blackjack. It hadn't dulled her senses as far as he could tell considering her winnings but he thought it still prudent to keep an eye on her. They didn't know each other that well yet and he had no idea how much alcohol she could handle, although considering she was a military brat and in the service herself he assumed she had quite a bit of, eh, practice. Still, it wouldn't hurt to look out for her and Jack figured it would probably be best for himself to stop after finishing this second glass of wine.

When Sam joined him again at their table with a small smile and rosy cheeks he was pretty sure she'd had enough wine for now too. "Do you want dessert?" He asked as she sat down, secretly hoping to catch another glimpse of her back.

"Um, I'm not sure," she said hesitantly, reaching for her glass of water. "I think I've had enough wine for now," she muttered under her breath, but still loud enough for him to overhear because of the intimate setting of the restaurant. It hadn't looked this intimate when he'd checked it out this morning and it certainly hadn't been Jack's intention to have a dinner some might consider slightly romantic… "You want some cake, I take it?"

"Yeah sure you betcha," Jack grinned, wondering if that was something she'd deduced from his cake and pie intake this road trip or if she knew that from his counterpart… "You?"

After Sam had studied the dessert selection they ordered and he once again found himself looking her over. She suddenly seemed nervous and was fiddling with a napkin before she finally spoke up. "Do you, eh… I know I'm not supposed to ask this," Sam continued with a nervous smile and barely making eye contact. "But you mentioned visiting Daniel and Cam so I, er, I guess I was just wondering if you keep in touch with them or their handlers too."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion, wondering why she'd broached this particular topic and why now. There was no way she could have overheard his conversation with the NID and he doubted that Agent Barrett had been stupid enough to tell her about who he really was and what his job was after making contact with her, let alone inform her about her teammates. "Why?"

"Why?" She reiterated with a puzzled frown. "Because I want to know if they're doing all right and since you already told me about your visit with them…"

Jack still wasn't sure whether to believe her timing was coincidental but she seemed genuine enough so he shrugged. "Well, not really but I was told they're doing fine in an update."

"Really?" Sam seemed to perk up with that news a bit, though he doubted him neglecting to tell her when this supposed update was escaped her.

"Yeah, there wasn't much change since my visit but they seem to be adjusting just fine. I wouldn't be surprised if that flyboy had hooked up with his overly friendly neighbor," he added, making sure to watch her reaction to this news.

She grinned, not seeming to be bothered by that tidbit. "I'm not surprised. Last I heard he and Amy weren't doing so great, she lived somewhere in Kansas and the long-distance thing was hard on him. I don't know," she murmured pensively, "maybe they broke up already since then. I heard he went on dates but I'm not sure with whom and Vala didn't seem to know either, but I do know he likes to flirt with pretty women."

"Last you heard?" Jack questioned. "I thought you were all such good friends."

"Well," she looked a bit upset at his little dig and ready to retort when their waiter turned up with desserts. "Thank you," she mumbled as the man placed them on the table and went off again. "Hmm, delicious," Sam moaned, nearly making him choke at the suggestive sound and the way she licked her spoon clean after her first bite. "Where was I? Oh right, yes, we are good friends but unfortunately we couldn't stay in touch as much as we'd hoped after my reassignment."

He was pleased that her dessert seemed to have appeased her and brought her good mood back, so he just nodded in understanding and munched on his cake. "Too busy with paperwork as 'The Man' once you got command of your own base?"

"There's only so much time scheduled for communications and a limited amount of data transfer allowed for everyone at the base. It's eh, quite a long distance and the base itself is classified so visitors are really limited too and we were all very busy. You know how it is," Sam explained with a slight flush.

Obviously she wasn't telling him the entire truth because if he were honest he really didn't how that was; he'd never heard of a base like that with such strict rules and he'd been involved in quite a few classified operations in his lifetime. Then again, it could simply be a difference between their timelines but her behavior told him otherwise. He wasn't going to pry for more information though, not yet at least. Besides, he doubted this was the kind of information the NID and his superiors were looking for. "I see."

"What about Daniel?"

"He's fine too," Jack said slowly, his eyes firmly on her face to see her reactions. He still wasn't sure if his earlier suspicions about her and that archeologist really were unfounded with the way both of them seemed so interested in how the other was doing, more so than the other guy it appeared. "He's adjusting to his prosthetic leg."

"That's great," Sam replied with a big smile of relief. "I'm glad. I know he was right when he said that in the grand scheme of things losing his leg wasn't that horrible, especially not after all we've seen and lived through but I can't help but worry…"

He nodded slowly, scooping up another bite of chocolate cake. "I don't think he's dating anyone though," he added. With his gaze holding hers he could just see her eyes saddening and something – pain perhaps – flashing through them before she looked down at her dessert.

"I'm not surprised." She didn't say anything else but the way she started playing with her food and how her smile had faded spoke volumes.

"Oh?" Was all Jack said, suspecting there was more behind that answer than she let on. It did however reassure his suspicions about her involvement with the other guy. Not that it mattered to him if she was involved with anyone, he told himself, it would just complicate matters if it was one of the friends she wasn't allowed to see. Because that would make her – or Jackson's – future cooperation unlikely. Unless he was mistaken there was also something in the frat regs about military and civilian personnel fraternizing, right? So considering what a by the book officer she seemed to be he thought it was just as unlikely for her to have a relationship with Jackson as it would be with her much older CO – his counterpart.

"Besides, Daniel is more into aliens anyway," Sam said with a slight smile.

Jack nearly choked on the gulp of water he'd just taken, coughing loudly until he'd recovered and found his voice again. "Aliens?" He asked with a hint of disgust as images of little gray men and other cartoon-ish figures flashed through his mind.

"Of human descend, of course," she added, clearly pleased with her attempt at humor.

"Of course," he reiterated, trying to keep a straight face. Her eyes were shining with laughter and he had no idea if she was just joking or being honest.

"Although," Sam mumbled, taking another bite of her dessert before continuing. "There have been quite a few alien possessions or viruses involved too in the past, so while the outside is human…"

Jack simply nodded, trying to ignore the images those words conjured. "Alien STDs?"

"That depends on the situation," she said seriously, even her eyes darkening a bit. "There have been some nanites, cavemen viruses and other unpleasant things, yes."

"Oh God," he muttered, pushing his plate away and ignoring the last few crumbs of cake on it. "I really don't want to know." He wasn't a prude or anything but he just had a little trouble wrapping his head around humans and aliens having, eh, sexual intercourse. His eyes slid back to her, wondering, before he decided he really didn't want to know more. It already sounded nasty enough and he had plenty of disturbing thoughts now to last him a few years. "Oh, eh, he's thinking about getting a job."

"Daniel?" Sam smiled at his obvious change in subject. "That's great. Does he have the same restrictions in his areas of expertise as I do?"

Jack shrugged, taking another sip of water. "I'm not sure but considering his counterpart is alive and well I assume he'll have to be creative to find a job."

"Well, Daniel is smart enough to find something to do. He has a wide range of interests and hobbies so I'm sure he'll find something."

He bobbed his head in agreement, eyeing her plate. "All done? Don't want to finish your wine?"

"No, I need to keep a clear head."

Jack leaned forward on the table conspiratorially, surprised to see her jerk back automatically before mirroring his pose. "You're not going to count those cards, are you? Because I don't think that's allowed," he whispered.

"Me?" Sam asked with wide eyes. "Not consciously at least," she said with a wide smile. "Let's go."

He chuckled as she got up, shaking his head. She better not get them into trouble…


	18. Day Forty Eight of a New Life

**Day 48  
>Casino<br>Atlantic City, New Jersey**

Jack was eyeing the clock and finally decided it was time to get moving, so he stretched his tall frame one last time and rolled off his back to sit up on his bed. His sock-clad feet were still aching from all the walking, he noticed as he rubbed them before standing up. His calf muscles were protesting as well, which was just ridiculous considering how fit he was. Somehow Sam dragging him off to go sightseeing, including walking at least six klicks along the Atlantic City Boardwalk and visiting every other store and amusement as well as having lunch, had been more tiring than actually supervising training exercises on the arctic ice or doing a rescue mission! God, maybe he was getting too old and his body couldn't handle the abuse any longer, he thought as a sharp pain knifed through his knee.

It didn't help that he'd been woken up by his cell phone before the sun was up, with the NID checking in with him. He'd been about to rant at them when they asked him why Sam had left the hotel! In his haste to get up he'd bumped his knee against the damned bedpost only to spot a note on the floor that had obviously been slipped under his door. Out of consideration of the early hour and his earlier panic Sam had left him a note to say she was going out on a run instead of waking him so he could still catch a few hours of shuteye! Well, as nice as that was of her he was still annoyed with the fact she'd gone out for a run without him knowing and finding out about it through the NID. Not to mention he hadn't been able to get back to sleep because he'd been too busy pacing his hotel room and fretting about whether or not she'd really return on her own, despite knowing the NID tail was following her from a supposed discreet distance. They better, considering she'd already recognized that Barrett guy in Illinois!

Deciding to spend those early hours a bit more useful he'd taken a shower, had called in with Simmons who'd found it necessary to search Sam's house in her absence – Jack figured the guy was just bored and intent on discovering Sam had evil intentions to take over the world – and had even checked his email before going for breakfast. By the time he was done Sam in her running gear had already passed him, even briefly waving at him in acknowledgment before she went up to her hotel room. Jack had taken the opportunity to call home just to check in, completely forgetting the time difference and had a brief conversation with a sleepy Tyler before letting the kid get some more rest. In a way he'd been glad it was his son instead of his wife answering because he was still confused about what this sudden attraction to Sam meant for his marriage.

It hadn't been long after he'd ended his phone call that Sam had joined him, looking all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and had managed to convince him to go sightseeing because she'd never been to Atlantic City before. Neither had he but sightseeing wasn't really his thing unless it was some kind of natural phenomenon or something, which this wasn't. Still, he'd given in because while staying in the hotel and casino all day was better than being cooped up in car for the better part of a day, a bit of fresh air had sounded good. He just hadn't expected it to take all day or for his knee to act up again. It was probably because of all the strolling, which often made his back and knees hurt after a few hours.

While it had been nice to see a bit of the beach Jack wasn't surprised to learn he hated strolling along the boardwalk as much as he hated strolling through a mall. Not much of the actual sights had interested him either and while he'd kept himself entertained in the beginning by surreptitiously watching Sam and learning a bit more about her through their conversations – it hadn't escaped him most of it was useless information for his superiors and he suspected that was why she didn't mind sharing it – he had soon realized that wasn't the best idea. She'd been wearing comfortable jeans and a simple shirt covered by a leather jacket but at some point she'd discarded her jacket because of the warm temperatures and his gaze had wandered down to the small strip of skin occasionally visible between her shirt and jeans as they walked, or even lower to her six. Not to mention the traces of vanilla-scented shower stuff that found their way to his nose every now and then when the sea breeze was directed just so. After spending days in a car with her and reading all the NID reports about her purchases and whatnot he knew she didn't wear perfume or used scented body lotion – just like him because any particular scent could betray you in the field – so he knew she'd been using the bubble bath stuff from the hotel, which only caused more distractions for him.

What _had_ surprised him though was for Sam to notice his knee was bothering him – he'd made sure to keep it to himself – and even suggest to go back to the hotel so he could rest for a bit. At first he'd been ready to balk at that, denying the knifing pain or swelling of his knee as not to reveal a weakness she might take advantage of but then she'd given him a certain look and he'd given in. Jack wasn't sure how to interpret said look but it had seemed like a mixture of exasperation and disbelief while simultaneously almost daring him to deny it – he could see how she would've made a good second-in-command to his counterpart. Truth was he had no idea how much more his knee could take without some permanent damage, not with the minimal rest he'd gotten last night and the earlier bump in his room. He'd already had one knee surgery a couple of years ago and he was well aware of how age was catching up with his battered body; one, maybe two more surgeries and he'd either be flying a desk, medically discharged or forced into retirement. So he'd accepted Sam's offer and after getting back to the hotel he'd plopped down on his bed for a little nap.

Now it was almost time to meet Sam for drinks, so Jack took a quick shower, shaved and pulled on some clean clothes. Not getting an answer when calling her room, which was just a few doors down on the same floor he assumed this meant she'd already gone downstairs and that he could probably find her in the casino. After checking his reflection in the mirror he ran both hands through his uncombed and unruly hair, making the errand strands stand up even more. Giving up, he made his way to the elevator and checked the bar to see if maybe she was there already. Of course she wasn't so he went into the casino looking for her. He was more confident in the NID tail's capabilities after receiving the call about Sam going out this morning so he wasn't worried she'd gotten away again and leisurely walked through the gambling halls.

Besides, from what he'd seen it was difficult to get her _out_ of the casino! And damn if she wasn't good at winning. He still wasn't entirely convinced she wasn't counting cards at the blackjack table but considering the amount of time he knew she spent there and the fact she hadn't been blacklisted yet reassured him somewhat. Sam had also played roulette, some dice games and poker while Jack was a bit more reserved. After all, this was a trip to boost her morale so to speak, not his. Her money came from a monthly allowance, everything she would win was a bonus and he already knew from watching her that she knew when to stop to prevent actually losing money. He on the other hand had a family to take care of, a kid in college, and he wasn't as rational as Sam, so he was careful with his money especially since he couldn't really afford to lose anything because he wouldn't be able to explain it to his wife. Watching Sam play and rake in money was enjoyable but after a while it also became boring so he entertained himself with a few hands of blackjack, some poker or would try the slot machines while she did her thing. Or, like now, he apparently retreated to his room while she snuck off to the casino.

Jack decided to try the blackjack tables first and it didn't take him long to spot her blond head at one, surrounded by some bystanders and other players and he headed in that direction. As he got closer he noticed she had changed too and was wearing a dark blue cocktail dress instead of her earlier more casual outfit. He quickly looked around and grabbed two drinks from a passing waiter before approaching Sam. When he'd squeezed his way past the male bystanders and scared another one away with his stern colonel glare he found himself just behind Sam to her right. She was sitting sideways on a barstool with her long legs crossed, wearing black pumps and the hem of her dress had slightly ridden up her thigh and was now about three inches above her knee.

Her upper body was turned towards the table and now he could also see a cap sleeve on her right shoulder, almost hidden underneath her blond tresses. Apparently she'd taken to wearing her hair down for a change and as Jack took another step forward to appear on her right side he noticed today's dress had a more revealing neckline, something Sara always called a boatneck he thought. It showed a hint of cleavage and Sam's long locks made it all the more appealing with the way their curling ends teased the top of her breasts, some even disappearing into the valley hidden by the fabric. Damn, no wonder the woman had her own fan club, he thought as he gave her another onceover and eyed the stack of her chips in front of her.

Despite seemingly being engrossed into the game Jack noticed Sam's back straightening slightly at his approach and when he leaned forward to place one of the drinks on the table within her reach, she looked at it and briefly flicked her eyes at him before returning to her game and signaling the dealer to hit her with another card.

"Alice," he greeted, reminding himself to stick to her alias with all these people and no doubt CCTV around. "I was hoping we could have that drink at the bar… or at least outside of the casino," he added, gesturing with his drink to the glass he'd set down for her.

"In a minute," she muttered, placing additional chips next to her original bet outside the box and signaling a V to the dealer to split the two cards with the same value in front of her.

"Yeah man, she's on a roll," another player said with a scowl in his direction as he followed her move and also placed an additional bet.

Jack patiently rolled his eyes as an assenting murmur arose from Sam's fan club and took a sip from his drink before setting the glass away. One of her fan boys slightly pushed him – no doubt upset that Jack was blocking his view of her legs – and after stomping down the urge to push back or hit the guy he stepped aside. Besides, Jack thought as he bumped Sam's shoulder, it was far more appealing to invade Sam's personal space than one of her fans. To her credit she hardly reacted, keeping her focus on her game and triumphantly collecting her winnings when she beat the house. Considering the high stacks of chips in front of her it wasn't the first time.

Placing one hand on the back of her barstool Jack leaned into her, smirking when he heard Sam's sharp intake of breath at the close proximity. The faint scent of vanilla hit him again in this position, making him take a deep breath. A shudder visibly ran down her back as he exhaled but she valiantly carried on with her card game, not giving any other outward indication that she was bothered with his presence so near. Jack grinned, lifting his hand to brush her long hair behind her ear and let his fingertips trail down her neck to brush the strands over her shoulder. He was pleased to see goose bumps erupt at the skin contact as he exposed her neck, right ear and shoulder.

"You're not cheating, are you?" He whispered, his lips nearly brushing her ear.

From the corner of his eye he saw Sam swallow hard, a blush creeping up her neck as she doubled down her bet. Her head turned to him, their cheeks almost touching when she replied. "Not really."

"Counting cards?" Jack inquired, his nose practically buried in her hair as he leaned even closer. "'Cause that's frowned upon."

"Don't worry about it," she whispered back. Her burning cheek pressed against his as she said the words and her lips skimmed his ear.

A tingle ran down his spine at the intimate contact and then suddenly his cheek was cold again as she turned back to her game. Jack shifted on his feet until he was standing against the back of her barstool and rested his hand on her knee so he could lean over her shoulder. "Be careful," he warned, his face next to hers and his fingers tightening their grip momentarily to get her attention. "You can't attract too much attention, remember."

Sam simply nodded, seemingly intent on ignoring him but her breathing had gotten noticeably heavier. Her hand reached out to the drink he'd placed next to her while her eyes stayed on the cards.

"They have facial recognition software here," he muttered. When all she did was shrug, he nudged against her temple with the tip of his nose to make her look in the direction of the camera on her left.

Reluctantly she broke her gaze from the table and pulled away from him, before turning her head so her left cheek was now near his right. Her chin rested on her shoulder as she whispered her reply. "I looked into it and they only have their own database of blacklisted players, advantage players, cheaters and crooks; no access to the DMV database or something like that. So unless the mission commander had a secret gambling addiction it wouldn't pick me."

Jack briefly closed his eyes to get himself together when she turned back to the table acting as if nothing was wrong. Her blush was the only sign she was also affected by their closeness but she seemed determined to ignore it and focus on her game. Glancing around them he received some dirty looks and scowls from her fan club but it didn't look like any of the personnel – security included – was keeping an eye on Sam. He turned his attention back to the woman in front of him and brushed her hair off her shoulder, smirking when he noticed the freckles dotting her skin. "They can still kick you out or blacklist you. And with you I mean both of us," he added in a soft voice. When she just shrugged again and placed another bet he let out a groan of frustration. She froze momentarily when he rested his chin on her shoulder before continuing with her game, seemingly intent on enduring, or ignoring, him.

After two minutes he let out a long-suffering sigh, nearly making her jump when his breath hit her skin. "What?" Sam hissed, glaring at him.

"Drinks, remember," he mumbled. She rolled her eyes and shifted on her seat in response, dislodging his head from her shoulder and pushing his hand off her knee as well. "Drinks," he drawled, waiting as she finished her round and again collected her winnings.

"I'm coming," she muttered, rearranging all her chips and slipping off her chair under some protest from her fan club.

Jack stood back, watching as she got her things and gave the dealer a tip in the form a chip. The man nodded in thanks, to which Sam smiled broadly at him he noticed, rapped the chip on the table and deposited it in his tip box. "I never got that," he commented as he took Sam's elbow and steered her towards the exit.

"Got what?"

"That," he said, imitating the dealer's rapping.

Sam looked at him strangely, as if appraising him and nodded almost imperceptibly. "It's procedure so the security can see he's not keeping the tips to himself. If he doesn't do that when he gets a tip and it's caught by security they'll probably launch an investigation," she concluded with an indulgent smile.

Now it was his turn to give her the same look, but she missed it as she entered the bar. Of course Jack knew it was procedure but did she know he knew? If so then why did she explain it at all? Her indulgence made him wonder if his counterpart used the same trick to change the subject, alleviate some tension or maybe just elicit a smile from her. It was a disturbing thought. Shaking himself he also walked into the bar and followed her to the booth she'd slipped into. "So…" He started as he sat down, again confronted with that faint vanilla scent.

"So," she reiterated, blinking her blue eyes at him.

"You're hard to drag away from a casino," he teased.

She smiled shyly, a flush creeping up her neck. "Well, you should have expected that; it is a Wonderland after all."

He chuckled, shaking his head. That wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind when picking her alias! "Drinks?"

"I already ordered," she replied, jerking her head in the direction of a waitress.

Damn, but he really needed to keep his head in the game! He hadn't even noticed it when he'd been left standing at the bar's entrance, distracted by her and their closeness at the blackjack table. At first he'd just tried to get a rise out of her, see how she would react to his advances after her complete one-eighty yesterday. If he were honest, he hadn't expected much of a response other than rejection, a rebuke or her playing along the best she could. It came as quite a surprise to see how his proximity, his breath and light touches had affected her. Her sharp intakes of breath, goose bumps, shudders, labored breathing and blushes weren't something she could fake. Jack had already acknowledged – to himself – he was attracted to her ever since seeing her in that shower, a picture he couldn't seem to forget and was conjured up every time that vanilla scent filled his nostrils – somehow his brain immediately associated that smell with images of her in a bathroom. The realization the attraction was mutual however was shocking… and exhilarating. Christ, he was so screwed!

Sam smiled at him when the waitress stopped by and set down two beers. "See."

"Ah, a woman who knows what beer I like," he said lightly, taking a quick sip and letting the cool liquid slide down his throat. Definitely screwed.

"Um," she shifted in her seat, fiddling with the bottle's label and looking anywhere but at him. "About earlier…"

Jack cleared his throat awkwardly, wondering how he could explain his actions without blowing his assignment. Just saying he did it because he was attracted to her didn't seem like such a good idea either. Not when they still had a few days left in the city and a hell of a long road trip to go. He could say he'd done it because he worried someone might overhear them but even then he wouldn't have had to go as far as he had. She had to know he was attracted to her after these past few days and he couldn't exactly tell her he wasn't interested or that he was married, since he'd already lied about Sara to her. Crap! "Eh, yeah… I, eh, really think you should be more careful with your gambling," he finally said, deciding to ignore the rest.

Sam's head snapped up at that, her brows furrowed in confusion for a nanosecond before she schooled her expression. "Like I said, their system won't select me."

"But with such winnings you're bound to attract attention, not to mention that some of the personnel or your fan club might recognize you."

"What?" She frowned, seemingly oblivious about the men who'd surrounded her at the blackjack table. "Look, you've got nothing to worry about-"

"It's cheating," Jack countered.

She shrugged and took a sip of her beer. "It's not illegal if you do it mentally. You just have to be discreet about it-"

"Which you weren't," he pointed out, interrupting her.

"I _was_," she insisted, leaning towards him over the table. "Trust me, I've done the research and calculated the risks. I know what kind of winnings I can get away with without arousing any suspicions."

Jack knew he should probably be surprised by that but he really wasn't. After all, she'd already lectured him about the odds of winning the jackpot from the slot machines the day they got here. "Maybe we should go to another casino just to prevent us from getting kicked out, or worse blacklisted." Maybe they should go to a different hotel too, preferably one that didn't have vanilla-scented bath products, he thought to himself.

Sam got a pensive look on her face, no doubt calculating her chances elsewhere. "Maybe. When did you have in mind? Because there's this folder in my hotel room about the city and I had decided to do some more sightseeing tomorrow." She must have seen his less than enthused reaction because she gave him an apologetic smile. "How's your knee?"

"I'm fine," he said defensively.

"I saw you favoring it this afternoon," she countered.

"Trust me; I would have faked a heart attack if you'd dragged me into one more retail store."

She chuckled softly at his quip but her response told him she wasn't buying it. "All those days in the car and then walking for most of the day can't have done your knee any favors. Look, it's okay, we'll just stay here tomorrow. Maybe we can decide on a new hotel then."

"Nah, you go see the sights and I'll stay here," he relented. The NID could follow her while he'd try out the hotel's gym or maybe get a massage. That's what the tail was here for after all, he might as well let them do their jobs and take it easy himself.

"If you're sure…" Sam mumbled, letting her voice trail off when he nodded.

After a few minutes of silence and half a bottle of beer Jack broke the silence. "So, how come you know what beer I like?"

"Eh, I just guessed," she stammered, blushing.

"And you happened to guess there was something with my knee too?" He figured he might as well admit since she obviously knew more than she was telling him. When her blush deepened he sighed. "Now I'll take a guess; you know because of the other me, my eh, counterpart."

Sam smiled guiltily, setting her empty beer bottle away. "He likes his beer and-"

"Bitches about his bad knee?" He interrupted her with raised brows.

"Well, I was going to say he likes to complain about his bad back and knees too," she elaborated.

It didn't escape his attention that she was talking about him in the present tense or that she apparently knew him quite well. "Hey, I resent that. My back and knees are just fine." It was only his right knee that acted up on occasion and sometimes that would cause his back to ache too, because he'd hold himself differently or something like that.

"Oh no," Sam quickly backtracked, "I believe you. You're not one and the same person and your knees and back aren't that bad."

"How would you know?" Jack questioned, silently wondering why it bothered him that she'd jump to such conclusions. How could she possibly know his knees weren't as bad as his counterpart, huh? It wasn't as if she'd seen his medical record or even his personnel file so she had no idea about the things he'd done in his career and what kind of injuries he'd sustained. She just automatically thought the O'Neill from her timeline had it worse than he did!

She seemed puzzled by his reaction and stared at the tabletop while gnawing her lip pensively. "I didn't mean anything by it," she said eventually, sounding slightly apologetic. "It's just that J-_General_ O'Neill has had three knee surgeries already and when he left the field he said it would be better for his back and knees, because he – and our CMO – worried the next time his knees might be totally shot."

"Oh," he murmured. Maybe the other guy's health really _was_ worse. After all, his own knee had only been operated on once although he'd been warned by several doctors he had to be careful or he might aggravate the condition and perhaps fail his next physical. So far he'd been lucky and after giving up black ops his knee had felt a lot better too. "How did he…"

"Several ways over the years," she shrugged, apparently knowing exactly what he'd wanted to ask. "Our CMO said the repeated staff weapons to the knees weren't doing him any favors either."

"What?"

Sam squirmed in her chair and shot him a look. "You know, with the, eh… Goa'uld," she lowered her voice, glancing around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. "The whole kneel before your god thing, accompanied by a swift kick or staff weapon to the knees. It probably damaged the joints and we didn't exactly get medical treatment or anything when we got captured so by the time we got back…"

Jack nodded in understanding, having had similar experiences on classified missions where he would have killed to get some painkillers. "That happened a lot then, eh?"

"Too often," she grinned. "The worst part is their ships all look the same, with gold everywhere and-"

"I didn't think you had such an eye for interior design," he quipped, recalling her first days in her new house.

"Oh no, I meant the then-Colonel would always complain about it," she chuckled softly.

He eyed her for a moment, letting the ramifications of her words sink in as she signaled the waitress for another round. It may have been delivered casually but Jack got the feeling getting captures by those aliens hadn't been a joking matter. After all he'd heard about this Ball guy who apparently was responsible for this timeline problem and he could tell from the interviews he was dangerous. In his own past he'd come across several foreign operatives who worked for the other side and they'd always been a pain in the ass to him, so he could only imagine how these power-crazed aliens would deal with what they saw as the annoying humans from Earth interfering with their plans for galactic domination. He doubted a kick to the knees and getting thrown in a cell was all they did…

The image of Sam's body popped up in his mind again and besides admiring the naked expanse of skin, he'd also noticed several scars. They hadn't exactly detracted from her hotness in any way but they'd still caught his eye upon the brief glimpses he got. It was a sobering thought and brought back the reality of their situation. His assignment was clear to him but despite that he often forgot the real reason behind it; that Sam and her friends weren't really supposed to be here and that they were actually from some alternate timeline. The idea itself was just too weird and out there. He understood the necessity of his assignment and would do anything to keep his son alive and well, but while he knew Sam and her teammates might be capable of destroying life as he knew it he never really thought about the life she had _before_ coming here. Obviously he'd learned of some of it through the interrogations and by spending time with her but he hadn't really contemplated some of the things she had to have experienced to end up with such scars.

"I take it that weren't the only injuries he sustained over the years," Jack cautiously broached the subject after they'd gotten two new beers and the waitress left them alone again.

"No," Sam said curtly before taking a swig. It was clear it wasn't something she wanted to discuss by her reply and the mask that fell back in place.

Contemplating his next move he fiddled with the label on his bottle before looking up at her. "I had a parachute accident back in the eighties on an unofficial mission and landed on the wrong side of the Iran/Iraq border. Had a bunch of broken bones and a skull fracture; it took me nine days to crawl to safety. The pain was bad and I've still got scars from it." Jack could tell she was surprised by his statement and if he were honest he was too because he hadn't intended on sharing his deep dark secrets with her. Not to mention they were highly classified and he'd probably have to shoot anyone who learned about it. That fact didn't stop him though when he saw her curiosity was piqued.

"Couple of years later I was back in Iraq, just couldn't stay away," he quipped. "Mission went sour; I got shot and was left for dead. Woke up in an Iraqi prison under less than hospitable circumstances. Of course they wanted to know everything I did but I wasn't really in a sharing mood, so they used some more persuasive methods than merely asking. It didn't work though and four months later I was finally out and got the medical attention I desperately needed. Now, I don't know about your O'Neill and what he went through but I do know about torture. Daniel mentioned those Goa'uld were really old and that they had these sarcophagi to keep them alive, right?"

Sam nodded slowly while he took a sip of beer, trying to clear his head from the awful memories his own words had brought up. "It's a healing device," she corrected.

Jack already knew that from the interviews and he'd even been told about how they apparently could revive the dead. He didn't want to ponder that little tidbit for too long because it gave his dark mind far too many ideas about how someone as nefarious as these aliens could use it to their advantage when torturing people for information. At least his own interrogators had to be careful not to kill him… "But they don't heal scars?"

"Um," she looked confused for a moment. "Well, it depends on how old they are and how long and often you use the sarcophagus. Why?"

"In the shower," he shrugged, looking at her intently. She blushed but still didn't seem to understand what he was referring to. "I saw your scars," he clarified. "Or have you never gone into one of those machines?"

"We try to avoid needing them," she replied noncommittally. "Using them can be addictive and according to our allies it destroys the soul."

Jack raised his brows in surprise at that last comment but decided not to go into it. "What happened then?" He asked, thinking about the familiar pattern of faint white lines he'd seen on her lower back and the marred skin of her left upper thigh as well as the strange scarring on her abdomen.

"I really don't think it's any of your business," Sam said.

"Oh c'mon, I showed you mine…" He whined, hoping he could sway her.

"I'm not really the war story swapping kind of person," she muttered with a slight scowl. "Besides, it's a very long and classified story."

Sighing, Jack relented. He could tell she was being serious about it. "Fine. What about your broken leg then?"

"Excuse me?"

"MacKenzie said you broke your leg recently," he shrugged.

Sam seemed reluctant to share, maybe even dismayed that the good doctor had shared the results of her x-rays with him and took another long swig of her beer. "I fell. The cast came off about four months ago."

He waited for her to elaborate but after a few seconds he realized that was it. "You fractured your right tibia severely from a fall?" When she simply nodded he stared at her. "What, you slipped or something? Spent too much time in space and ended up with brittle bones?"

"No," she said in a controlled voice, "I fell about twenty-five feet trying to climb out of an underground mine when a tremor destabilized the crates I was standing on."

"Ouch," he winced at the picture she'd painted. "Out there?"

The corners of her mouth lifted in a small smile at his finger pointing up at the sky and she nodded. "The ceiling was apparently weak and when two of my people and I walked on the surface it collapsed. Luckily for me one of them was the base CMO." She took another sip of beer, emptying the bottle and set it aside. "Just for the record; I don't have brittle bones, which you would have known if MacKenzie had shown you my x-rays."

"Really? Not even after all your stints on alien ships, getting thrown in their cells or just flying through space?" Jack questioned with a hint of incredulity in his voice. He knew that eventually all astronauts – Mission Commander Samantha Carter included – suffered from it after all their training and missions into space and was surprised to hear she didn't have that condition. He wondered why MacKenzie hadn't mentioned the difference in his first briefing when confirming the trio's identity. Perhaps his superiors or the NID had been notified but they hadn't deemed him important enough to know? It would certainly be beneficial to the Shuttle Program if they could somehow prevent the damage from occurring…

"Spaceflight osteopenia and things like muscle atrophy only occur during zero gravity or when there's no weight put on the bones for several weeks for some other reason, like having your leg immobilized by a cast," Sam explained with a small smile. "Skeletal unloading means the bones are relieved of their burden and if that continues for a certain amount of time bones start to deteriorate and eventually this results in osteoporosis or brittle bones prone to fractures."

He nodded slowly, understanding but wondering where she was going with this. "And…?"

"And that doesn't happen when there's artificial gravity, created by gravity field generators," she grinned. "Trust me the Goa'uld wouldn't have been able to fool anyone into believing they were gods if they were floating around their own spaceships; it's too undignified."

"So it's just like walking around on Earth, like in the movies?" Jack asked in surprise.

Sam frowned, looking at him strangely. "You like science fiction movies?"

"No," he said slowly. "But my kid does," he added. Well, sometimes he enjoyed watching _The Day the Earth Stood Still_ but she didn't need to know that.

"Ah," she murmured with a small smile. "So did you bring up this subject because the mission commander was suffering from spaceflight osteopenia?"

"Her and every other astronaut."

Sam got a pensive look on her face so he patiently waited for her to say whatever it was that was on her mind while he finished his beer. "You do realize that would pose a problem if I were to give into your superiors' plans to take on the role of the long lost mission commander?"

"What do you mean?" He asked after setting his empty bottle aside.

"Well, you eh, saw my scars," she said, a small flush creeping up from her chest. "Most can be easily covered by clothes or even body makeup but if someone were to see them or my x-rays would be somehow leaked to the press…"

Jack frowned, trying to think this through. She had a good point and he wondered if that had even crossed the minds of his superiors. The scars on her abdomen and leg might be easily covered up and the faint white lines on her back weren't even that obvious on her pale skin – he had only noticed them because of her pinked skin from the shower – but someone who knew the mission commander well, like her parents or even a lover would immediately realize that while they were old they were new for the late astronaut. Not even the four years since the accident could explain that. MacKenzie had already mentioned different healed fractures between MC Carter and Sam but if the latter didn't have decreased bone density and someone got their hands on her or both of their x-rays it would be very suspicious and no doubt some conspiracy theorists would claim a government cover-up because they wanted NASA's poster girl back. "I thought you had already rejected that plan?"

"I have, I just have this feeling my refusal isn't being taken seriously and that you, Maybourne or someone else will continue to try and convince me otherwise," she replied. "On the other hand, if I ever were to be accused of being her I guess I could always use the X-rays to my advantage to disprove their theory."

"What about your DNA and fingerprints?" He countered, knowing the public would find that more compelling evidence than some x-rays that could belong to just about anyone. "Just think about it…" He almost called her by her real name, just barely catching himself in time. Their corner booth gave them a certain amount of privacy and while they'd spoken in hushed tones so far and kept an eye out for any eavesdroppers, it was easy to be lulled into a false sense of security. Jack had to remind himself they were still out in the open and if anyone overheard him calling her by her name, especially given their probably somewhat bizarre conversation topics and recognized her, he was sure all the blame would fall on him if she – and his superiors' plans – were exposed. "Don't you miss it?"

"Being shot at and getting captured?"

He rolled his eyes at her sarcastic response and sighed, leaning towards her. "Going out to space. You could do a lot of good here as the mission commander. For one it would be nice to have one of those anti-gravity doohickeys you described and you could go back in space-"

"Like I said before; it's not the same. You honestly expect me to jump at the chance to go into space in a shuttle that killed my counterpart? The Shuttle Program's track record isn't all that appealing, Colonel," Sam replied. "Space shuttle main engine failure seems to be quite common for them. Since the crew managed to get out despite the engines it seems your Shuttle Program at least managed to overcome the loss of crew and vehicle problem they experienced prior to the _Challenger_ disaster in 1986. Still, it's unacceptable for a simple computer failure to force the main engines to shut down before _Intrepid_ could reach a safe orbit or a secondary landing site."

Jack blinked, slightly taken aback. "What gave you that idea?" It looked like she had done her research but he knew certain details had never made it into the press; NASA couldn't afford their mistakes to be public knowledge after the crew barely made it out alive and the mission commander had to pay with her life. It would certainly make it a lot easier and less embarrassing for NASA if Sam were to show up and reprise the mission commander's job. Not to mention it would make his assignment and the danger she and her friends posed to his son's life redundant.

"_Intrepid_ didn't reach orbit or a secondary landing site and a return to launch site abort seems to have been impossible as well as a transoceanic abort landing. Both would require the main engines to work properly to be executed," she shrugged. "Well, that and what that female interrogator told me when I was in custody."

"Ah," he muttered.

"If the computers had sensed a problem with the main engines after starting but before the solid rocket boosters ignited, then a redundant set launch sequencer abort would have been necessary since they can't be turned off once ignited. The shuttle would have taken off by then. If the main engines failure required an abort after they ignited then the mission commander had to wait until the rocket boosters burned out about 125 seconds after launch-"

His eyes widened as she continued to talk and he quickly interrupted her. "It seems like you did some research on the matter."

"Not really," she said with a dismissive hand gesture. "But normally a hatch is blown and the crew can slide out a pole to clear the orbiter's left wing so they can parachute to Earth or sea when the shuttle is placed in a stable glide on autopilot. The fact that the mission commander had to stay behind to fly the shuttle and allow her crew to escape indicates the autopilot also failed, making the in-flight crew escape system impossible. If she hadn't stayed behind to fly _Intrepid_ it would have probably crashed over Texas and Louisiana causing even more casualties. Instead she managed to let her crew bail out through the escape hatch and went down over the Atlantic with the shuttle. So you can see why I'm not jumping at the chance with all the computer failures that could have easily been avoided," Sam concluded.

"I thought you said you had never been trained as an astronaut," Jack commented after processing her techno babble.

She chuckled softly, shaking her head in mirth. "I also told you I'd planned on becoming an astronaut since I was a kid until the _Challenger_ Disaster happened."

"What if you could help improve the Shuttle Program and prevent those, eh… computer or engine failures?"

"Colonel," Sam sighed, "do you really think the Program will be that important once the Navy gets the Stargate up and running? Even if that miraculously wouldn't influence NASA's funding it certainly wouldn't be your superiors or the NID's top priority and they'd make damn sure my knowledge wouldn't be wasted on that…"

Jack nodded slowly in understanding, resigning himself with the fact that his assignment was far from over – not that he'd been deluded enough to think otherwise. "So, you're absolutely sure about this?"

"Oh come on," she cajoled as she got up, a smile playing on her lips. "Why would I want to give up my life as Alice now that I have finally found my Wonderland?"

He snorted, threw some cash on the table to cover their drinks and got up to follow her lead. No doubt she would want to go back to the casino until it was time for dinner…


	19. Day Forty Nine of a New Life

**Day 49  
>Hotel Restaurant<br>Atlantic City, New Jersey**

Unsurprisingly considering the early hour there weren't many people enjoying breakfast yet, meaning Jack had been able to pick any table he wanted when he'd come down. He had chosen the most strategic spot near the wall, giving him an excellent overview of the room. Mere minutes after settling in he saw Sam enter the space just like she'd promised when they'd gone to their rooms last night. "G'morning," he muttered in greeting once she'd reached the table and sat down in the opposite chair.

"Morning, Colonel," she greeted with a small smile.

Not really in the mood for small talk he handed her a menu as he opened his own, perusing the list to see what he wanted for breakfast. They sat in silence until the waitress came to get their order. Minutes later the woman came back with their coffees and disappeared again. Jack wasn't really a morning person so he silently started sipping his coffee, every now and then surreptitiously glancing at the woman across from him. She was looking pretty well rested considering how little sleep she could have gotten – it had been rather late when he'd finally managed to drag her out of the casino. He nearly bit his tongue to prevent the question about how she'd slept from falling off his lips because he'd decided thinking about her tangled in sheets, with her hair mussed and looking sleepy wasn't a very good idea. Damn, he hated it when his superiors or the NID were right but he had to admit this little road trip they'd insisted on seemed to be working its magic, he thought to himself. "So… what's on the schedule for today?"

Sam looked up from her coffee, a guilty flash in her eyes before it was gone. "Well, there were still some things I wanted to see…"

"Ah, right. Sightseeing," Jack mumbled. When they'd finally returned to the hotel yesterday he'd been bored to tears and his knee had been killing him. He didn't think it was a good idea to repeat that today. The ache in his knee was still present and his sleep had been restless because of it, but at least the knifing pains had subsided. Besides, it might be good to be separated from her for more than a few hours…

"How is your knee?" She asked with a wince, looking at the tabletop as if she could see right through it.

The waitress suddenly appeared with their breakfast and he waited until she was gone to reply. "It's fine. But if it's all right with you I'd rather stay here. Maybe relax a bit," he shrugged. It was about time he'd let the NID boys work for their money while he was getting a massage.

"That's okay, I didn't think you'd be all that interested in checking out the New Jersey State Museum," Sam replied as she nibbled on her toast.

He frowned, wondering where the hell that was and why she wanted to go there. "That's in the city?"

"Trenton, I figured I could take the car with me unless you would need. I could just take a cab."

"You're going to a museum?" He asked again, still trying to wrap his head around it.

She nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. "They apparently have an excellent collection of artifacts and fine arts dating back to the early nineteenth century, maybe Daniel has rubbed off on me more than I thought. And I want to see the replica of their Hadrosaurus."

"You like dinosaurs?" He grinned.

"Well, I've seen a lot of things out there over the past decade or so and how ever amazing all that is, you get a certain appreciation for home. We've never encountered any real dinosaurs though, unfortunately."

Jack nodded in understanding as he munched on his breakfast. It wasn't all that strange if you thought about it; every now and then entire new species of animals were discovered in rain forests or something, after all. Apparently there was still enough of a mystery on Earth to keep Samantha Carter interested. Or maybe it was pure nostalgia. "I'm sure you'll have fun."

"Yeah sure you betcha," Sam grinned as she popped the last bite of toast in her mouth and shrugged.

"Are you sure you don't want something else?" He asked, gesturing at her empty plate. For all the food she ate at dinner she hardly had any breakfast. "If you ask nicely they might even give you Frootees; they're on the kids menu."

She made a face before reaching for her cup and draining the last of her coffee. "No thanks. I'll just grab my things and head to Trenton."

"That's what, over an hour by car?"

Gnawing her lip she seemed to think it through – or maybe calculate the distance and how long it would take her, he could never tell with her. "Probably an hour and a half. I'll probably be back late in the afternoon, okay?"

"Sure. Got your cell phone with you?" When she patted her pocket he took it as a yes and dug into his own pockets. "Here, the car keys."

* * *

><p><strong>New Jersey State Museum<br>205 West State Street  
>Trenton, New Jersey<strong>

Sam had been strolling around the museum for over an hour, enjoying some of the artifacts but mostly just to keep up appearances. After leaving the hotel she had immediately spotted the sedan following her, even though they did their best to avoid being seen. The effort had been in vain though, because she'd worked with Agent Malcolm Barrett on several occasions in her timeline and she knew all about his modus operandi when following a suspect or doing a stakeout. At first she hadn't been sure if it was Malcolm tailing her or if the NID agents in the sedan were simply following some sort of NID protocol but about half an hour ago she'd laid eyes on him in the museum.

If she were honest she was a bit disappointed in her friend's counterpart here but hoped it was simply down to having the advantage of knowing his MO and maybe a little bit of luck on her side. She hadn't made his partner yet so she assumed he was near the exit or even outside at the entrance, although he could also be making the rounds inside. Either way, Sam had to be careful sneaking out. There was another upside of having run into Malcolm in the diner because now he would have to be extra careful about being seen by her too, since it would be difficult for him to explain his presence here as well if she bumped into him again. That was assuming the NID would give her enough credit to realize he was tailing her of course.

Clearly Colonel O'Neill had been aware of the NID tail otherwise he wouldn't have let her go here, or even sightseeing in Atlantic City, she thought. She was a bit surprised he hadn't gotten a replacement for Malcolm yet, but at least this way it was easier for her. Of course there was a chance he didn't know who the detail was but Sam found that hard to believe; any Jack O'Neill would make sure he had all the info, especially when dealing with the NID. Thinking about him she felt a bit of shame creep up, about her unabashed flirting with him the day before and dragging him all over the city knowing it would wear him out enough to decline on another sightseeing trip today. It hadn't been her intention to make his knee injury act up again, though. Only when they'd been strolling around the boardwalk had she noticed him favoring the leg. In a way it was an added bonus because it would make sure he wouldn't want to go out again soon, but she felt bad knowing how much her Jack's knees could bother him after overdoing it.

Sighing, Sam checked her watch and pushed those thoughts away. It wasn't her fault O'Neill had a bum knee, after all. Besides, the man could have told her the joint was acting up or just suggest they go back to the hotel. She wasn't responsible for him, if anything he was responsible for her considering he'd been assigned to keep an eye on her. Slowly, she glanced around making sure neither Malcolm or his partner was looking where she was going, went through a door leading outside and went into the separate planetarium. A new show was about to start and she'd already bought her ticket, knowing it would probably be the best cover she could have to sneak out without the NID noticing. She settled in one of the corner chairs in the back, which wasn't noticeable from the entrance and shrugged off her jacket.

Once the show started and the room settled in darkness Sam grabbed her bag, ready to sneak out. Just as she got up she remembered the cell phone – with GPS – in her pocket and slipped it into the jacket she was leaving behind. She needed to make a quick stop at the library next door to check its archives, making sure the information she had acquired online was genuine so she took the exit leading to the parking lot. Everyone had seemed to be engrossed by the show, making her escape even easier.

From the parking lot it took her less than five minutes to get into the library and fifteen minutes later she was back outside again, having found the information she needed and with a cab waiting for her. When she'd left her hotel room earlier this morning she'd slipped the prepaid cell phone as well as a lot of cash in her bag. Colonel O'Neill was always commenting on her winnings but she was pretty sure he had no idea just how much money she already had since she made sure to exchange some of her chips for money whenever he wasn't around and now she needed some of it for a down payment on the building she was going to inspect. After confirming the intel she'd gathered in the library, she'd gone to the ladies rooms to transform into her alter ego Therra and call a cab because she obviously couldn't take the SUV since it was equipped with GPS and would be easy to trace.

Double-checking the email Melinda, her assistant, had sent her with the building's address on it on her phone she told the cabbie where to go and sat back. So far she hadn't heard a peep from her NID detail and she could only hope that meant they hadn't discovered her missing yet and were probably still looking for her. This would only be her second in-person meeting with Melinda but Sam was hoping the young woman was living up to her hopes and had actually found the perfect spot because the planetarium's show only last for an hour and a half and she had to be back before it finished.

Despite the traffic it took the cabdriver not even fifteen minutes to reach the address and Sam quickly paid him before making her way into the building, exchanging her sunglasses for the fake glasses her handlers had given her. Melinda was already waiting for her at the reception with an impeccably dressed woman in her late fifties – most likely the real estate agent – standing next to her.

"Hello Melinda," she greeted her assistant with a small smile.

"Mrs Brown," the assistant turned to the older woman, "this is my boss, Ms Ca-"

"Please, call me Therra," Sam interrupted her, even though the name – and the intimate memories connected to it – still left a bad taste in her mouth. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Brown."

They shook hands and Mrs Brown gestured towards the elevators. "Please, let me show you around."

"Of course, Melinda had already sent me some information and pictures but I would prefer to see it with my own eyes," she murmured. "However, I don't have a lot of time. I have to be elsewhere in fifty minutes."

* * *

><p><strong>O'Neill's Hotel Room<br>Atlantic City, New Jersey**

Jack lay dozing on his bed, his body still relaxed from his earlier massage when he was rudely awoken by the shrill sound of his cell phone. Groaning, he rolled over and got off the bed. Where the hell had he left his phone? He checked the deep pockets of the robe he was wearing but there was nothing inside so he slowly walked over to where he'd discarded his clothes on a chair and searched the pockets.

"Ah!" He said triumphantly when he found it. Just in time too because he was pretty sure his voicemail would kick in after two more rings. "O'Neill," he muttered, after scowling at the unknown number on the phone's display.

"_Colonel O'Neill, this is Agent Barrett of the NI-"_

Rolling his eyes Jack interrupted the man. "Yeah, I know who you are." It was that idiot who'd let himself get made by Sam back in that Chicago diner. The one Simmons had insisted was good at his job and who he'd refused to replace just on Jack's hunch that his charge _might_ have made him. That Beret guy had probably told him it was completely accidental and that it was a huge coincidence Sam had bumped into him of all people. Jack didn't believe in coincidences and when it came to her, he wasn't sure he should believe in accidents either. She'd already proven how smart she was over the past few days, technobabbling him half to death. He was pretty sure she probably calculated every move she made like the good little scientist she was, ensuring there was no room for error or accidents. "Whaddya want?"

"_Um, I'm not sure how to say this…"_

"Just spit it out, Beret," he snapped. He suddenly felt naked in his robe with just his boxers underneath; after the massage his body has been so languorous and relaxed that getting fully dressed had seemed like too much effort and since he was alone in his room he hadn't bothered. Now he was starting to regret that decision. Putting the phone on speaker he placed it on a side table and walked back over to the chair with his clothes on it.

"_Barrett_," the man corrected irritably.

Jack quietly discarded his robe and pulled on a shirt. "Fine, whatever. Why did you call me aren't you supposed to keep an eye on, eh, my charge, Alice?" He questioned, unsure whether the line was secure so it probably wasn't wise to call Sam by her name.

"_That's just it, Colonel. We, er, we lost her."_

"You what?" He yelled, nearly tripping over his own feet as he pulled on his jeans. "What the fuck are you even getting paid for?"

For a few seconds the line was quiet with only the buzz of people on the background audible – no doubt the Agent had pulled the phone from his ear at Jack's outburst. _"We're still looking for her but she just slipped away and-"_

"Oh well, if _that_'s what happened," he countered sarcastically. "Then I'm sure you're not to blame, right?"

"_I swear, Colonel, I only turned my back for a second!"_

Jack paced in front of the side table, fuming on the inside but the only outward sign of his inner turmoil was the scowl on his face, directed at the cell phone. "Why did you turn your back in the first place?" When nothing but silence sounded he nodded, feeling perversely pleased with himself in knowing he'd been right all along. "Oh that's right, because you let yourself be made by your target and now you can't get too close in case she recognizes you."

"_I was following her through the exhibitions when I stepped behind a half wall to report to my partner. When I looked back she was gone! I figured she'd just gone to the next hall but I couldn't find her-"_

"And where was your partner, exactly?"

A sigh came over the line and the Agent muttered something incomprehensible, before speaking up. _"He was keeping an eye on the entrance and exit."_

"He didn't see her pass there?" he inquired. "Beret?"

"_No, it doesn't appear as if Alice left through the front door. We're checking the emergency exits now but I don't think she went that way since an alarm is supposed to sound if one of those doors are opened."_

Jack was still pacing the room, wondering what he should do now; go to Trenton himself on the off chance he can find a clue, or even better Sam herself, or stay here in case she isn't lost but simply on her way back to the hotel already and those incompetent fools didn't notice it. "What about the SUV?"

"_Colonel?"_

"Is the car still there? If not, there's supposed to be a tracking device on it or something. Simmons said something about the GPS and being able to trace it," he explained impatiently.

The Agent was quiet for a few minutes and by the sounds of it – buzzing of voices, snippets of conversation and rustling of fabric – he was making his way over to the parking lot. Great, apparently the car hadn't even occurred to them yet! These were Simmons' best men? _"Your SUV is still here_," Beret finally replied, panting slightly.

"Don't tell me you're both outside now," Jack ground out, wondering if they were a special kind of idiots or if it was a job requirement for the NID. Simmons and Maybourne certainly fit the bill, he thought snidely. "What about her cell phone?"

"_I can't just call her, Colonel O'Neill_," the Agent said in a tone that made it pretty clear who he thought the idiot of this conversation was. _"Oh, the GPS!"_

He didn't even bother to confirm that and just waited until the guy's partner had tracked it down. "Well?"

Beret seemed to be muttering to himself – or maybe his partner – until he apparently succeeded in location the cell phone's signal. _"Huh, it says it's still here, most likely in the building but I can only narrow it down to a two-mile radius."_

"Maybe she left it behind," Jack mused aloud. She certainly was smart enough to do that, in his opinion.

"_On purpose?"_

He let out an exasperated sigh as he sagged down on his bed. "No, people accidentally lose their phones all the time when they're running away," he replied sarcastically. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he let his head hang as he thought the situation through. "Maybe I should try calling her. Even if she's left her phone behind you could probably locate it once it's ringing. Who knows, maybe there's a clue about where she's off to on it or nearby. How long has she been gone now?"

"_Eh_," came the hesitant answer, _"a little over half an hour…"_

"Half an hour?" Jack reiterated loudly. "For crying out loud, the woman runs ten miles an hour several times a week just for the heck of it! She's probably long gone by now! And if she took a cab she could be just about anywhere! You boys better find her, Beret…"

* * *

><p><strong>J.S. Salvaging Inc, HQ<br>Trenton, New Jersey**

Sam grinned as she handed the signed papers over to Mrs Brown, despite the emotions that always came when she thought about Therra or had to sign her name. "That's it?"

"It sure is," the woman replied amicably, smiling. She placed the envelope with Sam's down payment – she hadn't even blinked at the cash – and her version of the signed papers in her briefcase. "It's all yours now, Therra."

"It's a lovely building," Melinda commented, obviously pleased that Sam had approved of the second building she'd picked. "Is that where you want your office to be, Therra?"

Following the young woman's line of sight, Sam nodded. Not that she was ever going to be here, but that was beside the point. Well, she might stop by once to pick up Daniel in a few weeks so they could really start executing her plan – unlike all the prep work she'd been doing so far – and get the hell out of here. But she didn't really need an office for that. "Yes, it's an excellent space," she commented, following Melinda over to it. "Do you think the one next door will be good for you?"

"Oh, really? I love it already! Thank you so much, Ms C-I mean, Therra," she said, smiling self-consciously as she corrected herself for the umpteenth time that day.

"I won't be in the office a lot so there's no need for you to use this space," Sam indicated the area in front of her office, where an old desk – no doubt belonging to the previous owner's assistant – still stood. "Maybe we can get you an assistant too, to answer the phone and… stuff, while you're busy with, eh, executive and administrative duties." She honestly had no idea about the hierarchy in an office setting but she did know Melinda was qualified enough to do most of the things Sam needed to get done. She was like her own Walter. For the more important things she could probably still count on Ben Jones, the business administration guy.

Mrs Brown smiled as the two of them checked out the space again. "If that was all, I shall be on my way now. Oh, I almost forgot the keys!"

Sam took the keys from her and walked her over to the elevator, saying goodbye. "If there's anything we forgot you have my contact information," she said politely before the woman left.

"Therra, I had this made a few weeks ago and I hope you like it," Melinda spoke shyly.

Looking at the nameplate she held up, Sam grinned. "It's wonderful," she complimented her. It bore the company's new name, _J.S. Salvaging Inc,_ in elegant letters and basic colors. The name had been carefully chosen, knowing Daniel had to recognize it yet it shouldn't raise any brows with his handlers or the NID in case they wanted to screen the workplace he wanted to apply to. She took the plate and hung it on the wall opposite the elevators so it was the first thing people would see upon stepping out of the car.

Turning back to Melinda, they briefly discussed what was expected of her. Most of it involved some administrative things, and acquiring certain equipment, contacting employment agencies, placing advertisements and setting up job interviews once Ben gave them the green light. Most of it would go through email but she had no idea how she was going to do the job interviews or the hiring yet, since there would be a few states between her and this new company.

It was something she could figure out on the road trip back home, she told herself. At least that way she wouldn't have to deal with Colonel O'Neill too much. She also had no idea how long it would take before she could actually send her new crew out and start salvaging once she'd built a modified version of a UTD to pinpoint the ship's location scanning for naquadah, but hopefully it wouldn't be too long. It couldn't be too soon either since she still had to get the crew, the salvaging ship and make the UTD without the NID or O'Neill noticing.

She felt a bit guilty about not having any long-term plans for Therra's company or its future employees – Melinda specifically – but she only needed that one ship, or at least its contents to be salvaged. After that she and Daniel could find the final pieces she was going to need and move onto the last phase of her plan. As long as she got that ship and didn't run out of money first, it would hopefully all work out. Besides, if she succeeded this timeline would cease to exist so Melinda and her future colleagues wouldn't need a job anymore.

Satisfied with today's progress, Sam checked her watch and realized she had to get back to the museum before Barrett and his partner would come to the conclusion she'd snuck off! They probably already knew by now but if she hurried she could slip back and they would hopefully think they'd merely overlooked her. She set some dates with Melinda while they rode the elevator down. To Sam's surprise her assistant offered to drive her back to the library, an offer she accepted hoping that the NID wouldn't be keeping an eye on the place or if they would, they at least wouldn't recognize her in the unfamiliar car.

The new headquarters of Therra's company was just a little over ten minutes away from the library and before she knew it they were already there. Thanking the younger woman she went back into the library's ladies room to do her hair and make sure she didn't look like she'd just been all over town and was just Sam again. Seven minutes later she was walking down the path leading to the parking lot and made her way back into the planetarium the same way she'd gotten out. A few glares were thrown her way when she made a bit too much noise but without further complications she found her seat, with her jacket still untouched. The man next to her looked at her strangely, as if he wanted to ask her why the hell she'd bought the ticket in the first place if she was only here for the last ten minutes but luckily he kept quiet.

Once the show was over Sam got up slowly, hanging her jacket over one arm as she checked her cell phone. Unsurprisingly she had several missed calls from Colonel O'Neill but she could easily explain those away by blaming the show and putting her phone on vibrate. She found herself somewhere at the back of the throng of people who made their way back to the museum and leisurely walked inside after them. As the crowd dispersed she saw a pissed off Malcolm Barrett leaning against the wall, just to the side of the entrance where he was either talking to the frantic-looking man in front of him or through a cell phone, she couldn't tell from the distance. Reaching for her own cell phone she called O'Neill back, making sure to hang up after it rang twice so she could claim she'd called him back after the show and before she got into the car. She didn't have a hands-free set so – unfortunately – she couldn't call him or answer the phone once she was on the road.

Sam deposited the cell phone in her bag where the prepaid phone was as well and dug out the ticket for the planetarium. Taking a deep breath, she strode towards the exit and entrance pretending not to see Malcolm or his companion and just before she left the museum she threw the ticket away, in the garbage can in front of them. Again she rummaged through her bag as she walked out to the side parking lot, trying to keep up appearances as she forced herself to stay calm. By the time she'd reached the SUV she had her sunglasses in one hand and the car keys in the other.

* * *

><p><strong>O'Neill's Hotel Room<br>Atlantic City, New Jersey**

After he'd hung up with that Beret guy Jack had tried calling Sam several times but obviously she didn't answer, not that he'd expected otherwise. He was pacing the room again after a brief lunch and a quick shower, contemplating whether to drive the hour and a half to Trenton to help the search or stay here in the hopes she'd return when his phone rang. When he moved to accept the call he noticed the icon for a missed call in the display's corner, wondering who that could have been he answered the cell phone. "O'Neill."

"_Colonel, it's me, Agent Barrett again."_

"You got an update?" Jack asked gruffly. Honestly what were the chances Sam would actually come back to the hotel? Sure, she loved the casino but he was pretty sure she would love her freedom even more. It didn't bear thinking what she could do if there was no one to keep an eye on her, to prevent her from 'fixing' this timeline. No, there really wasn't anything here for her and who knew where she could be! They should probably check those teammates of hers just in case she'd miraculously found a way to locate and contact them. Perhaps she'd visit them or they would all meet at a prearranged location! With that, his mind was made up. "Beret? You better have some good news or I swear to God I'll come over there myself and if I find her myself-"

"_We did_," the man interrupted him.

Stunned, because he hadn't actually believed them capable of locating her, he waited a beat. When no explanation was forthcoming he replied. "Excuse me?"

"_We found Alice,_" Beret clarified.

"Well, where the hell was she? And don't tell me she was in Wonderland," he growled at the phone. "How did you find her? Please don't say you were stupid enough to break cover _again_ and approach her yourself!"

The NID Agent cleared his throat awkwardly, sounding a bit nervous and as if he was hedging when he finally spoke. "_It appears she was here all along-"_

"At the museum?" Jack yelled in frustration. Just how incapable were these guys if they couldn't find her for an hour and a half? "How the hell could you have missed her for over an hour?"

"_Well, er, Colonel there is an, eh… planetarium at the back, separated from the museum building and apparently Alice was there, watching a show."_

For a minute he stared at his phone, at a loss for words. They'd been panicked while she'd been enjoying herself in the planetarium? He decided to ignore the fact she hadn't told him there was a planetarium in Trenton – he loved those things! – and instead forced to focus on the situation at hand. "And you didn't know this… how?"

"_Er," _Beret hesitated, obviously realizing Jack's deceptive calm tone was anything but. _"It's at the back of the building, near the parking lot actually and when I turned my back for a moment she must have gone through the door leading to the planetarium without us noticing."_

"And there was nothing out of the ordinary with her?" He asked, still alert for any deception on her part but deciding to forego any questioning regarding their stupidity at not knowing there was a planetarium there in the first place.

"_No, she looked perfectly calm and collected. She just left the parking lot in the SUV and we're following her from a distance."_

Jack nodded to himself and sat down on a chair. "Any sign she's going the wrong way even if it's just a detour I wanna know!"

"_Of course, Colonel."_

"You're sure she went to this planetarium? It wasn't just some scheme?" He questioned, needing some reassurances.

"_Positive,"_ the Agent said, his tone of voice resolute. _"The ninety-minute show was new and some kind if special event because of the summer holiday or something, so she had to pay. We saw the ticket she threw away before she exited the museum."_

Getting up, Jack took a sip of water as he processed the information he'd been given. "Very well, O'Neill out." Without further ado he hung up but instead of feeling reassured his mind was only coming up with more questions. It was awfully convenient she just happened to discard that ticket right in front of them, wasn't it? Why hadn't she answered her phone when he'd tried calling? That reminded him of the missed call on his cell, so he quickly checked it. Sam had called him when he'd been in the shower but she hadn't left him a message. He hadn't even heard the phone ringing and since his voicemail hadn't kicked in she must have disconnected pretty quickly… God, was this all part of some elaborate plan of hers or was he just getting paranoid? Maybe this road trip hadn't been such a good idea after all. Jack wondered if this attraction to her was clouding his judgment because it sure as hell wasn't good for his sanity!


	20. Day Fifty of a New Life

**Day 50  
>O'Neill Hotel Room<br>Atlantic City, New Jersey**

Jack washed the remnants of shaving gel from his face after he was done shaving and patted his face with a towel, which he then used to rub his hair dry. Another towel was wrapped around his hips as he left the bathroom, immediately going for the stack of folded clothes in the closet. He grimaced when he realized there were only two outfits left and that it really was time to do some laundry. He'd have to check if the hotel offered that service or if he would be forced to do it by hand in the bathroom because there was no way he would wear the same outfit for the entire trip back to Rainier! Reaching in, he grabbed the black jeans, a white short-sleeved top and his dark blue shirt and tossed it on the bed while he looked for boxers and socks.

In less than twenty minutes he was supposed to get Sam, go out to dinner in a nearby restaurant and take her to one of the other casinos so she could have some fun. When he'd checked in with his superiors by phone yesterday they'd rejected the idea of the two of them changing hotels and instead Jack had decided they would cut this trip short. Surprisingly his charge had agreed and they would leave tomorrow so this was probably the last day this week to get some decent food and a good night's rest. Not to mention enjoy the luxury of a spacey and clean bathroom so he had, on the advice of yesterday's masseuse, taken a long bath to ease the occasional pain in the sore joint of his knee. He had to admit it had been very relaxing and he made a mental note to try and use his bath at home more often too once this assignment was over… although he had no idea when his superiors or the NID would be satisfied and allow him to go back to his old assignment.

He shivered as some water droplets rolled down his chest and back and the air conditioning cooled his skin. He ran the extra towel once more through his hair and over his face before tossing it in the direction of the bathroom and untying the one around his waist to continue toweling off. When he was finished he put on the clothes he'd laid out, except for the shirt so he could run a comb through his unruly silver hair without some strands decorating the blue fabric. Sara had bought it for him, he recalled when he finally slipped the shirt on, leaving it unbuttoned for now with the warm temperatures.

Jack winced at the memory of his wife. She'd called him yesterday, catching him totally off guard when he'd answered the phone in his room as he'd waited for Sam to make her trip back to Atlantic City. He hadn't expected a call from Sara, even though he probably should have called her or Tyler after his brief conversation with his son in the early morning the day before her call. What had shocked him though, was that she'd called the hotel while he'd been absolutely certain he'd called home on his cell phone like he always did. Apparently his kid had tracked him down by using some kind of program he'd installed on his cell phone a few weeks ago, when Jack had asked him to put some of those cool games on his new phone. Of course, his wife had been suspicious about him staying in a hotel in Atlantic City and had apparently called the front desk to confirm if he was staying there. In her place he would probably feel the same because really, why would he be 'stationed' in Atlantic City and staying in a hotel for this new, classified assignment of his?

Sara had never truly questioned the nature of his assignments in the past or if he really was going overseas or whatever he'd told her, but there was a first time for everything and apparently yesterday she'd felt it necessary to ask him. He had briefly wondered if she'd inquired about his accommodations at reception and he'd been glad he and Sam had separate hotel rooms and weren't sharing a two-bedroom suite or anything like that – something he'd almost expected when the NID had insisted on this trip. Anyway, he had managed to reassure Sara and told her he was only here temporarily before moving to yet another location as he'd been doing these past few days, which wasn't a lie per se.

She had accepted that and probably thought he was providing protection for some bigwig or something – he hadn't bothered to correct her. Depending on his upcoming meeting with his superiors and the NID to discuss the progress he had made with Sam and what she had been up to during this little trip, he might get some time to go home to his wife and son and Sara had been pleased to hear it. Jack still wasn't entirely sure if that was the wisest move he could make considering his already troubled mind and conflicting feelings, but Sara and Tyler's wellbeing had been _the _reason he had accepted the assignment in the first place so if they needed him home for a bit then he would go – they came first after all, before even his own feelings.

After hanging up though he'd been a bit… well, not shaken but he definitely felt uncomfortable, guilty even despite not having done anything wrong – yet. In the end he hadn't been able to get rid of the feeling so he'd only briefly spoken to Sam on her return, watched her as she played craps in the casino from the other side of the table and tried the slot machines for a bit himself before he'd retreated to his room and stayed in there for the rest of the night.

It wasn't like he could confront her with her disappearing act anyway since he wasn't even supposed to know about it in the first place! Still, his gut was telling him she was up to something despite not being able to prove it and he'd relayed that to Simmons. The man had basically ignored him and dismissed his suspicions, claiming he was probably imagining things since he hadn't found anything suspicious when searching Sam's house the other day, so Jack had called Maybourne and told him about what had happened earlier when Sam had been at the museum. Again, Jack had been unable to convince him but at least that rat bastard had agreed on replacing Barrett after he'd explained how the Agent's earlier run-in with Sam had prevented him from staying close to her and eventually losing sight of her for over an hour! It would take at least a day for a new guy to take over though, so Maybourne had insisted Sam had to stay in today and suggested that Jack take her out to dinner in the evening when Barrett's replacement had arrived and been updated to keep an eye on them.

So far he'd kept his distance from her today, still feeling like he was in the wrong somehow when he was too close to her; he'd made sure to have breakfast before she was up and their lunch had consisted of snacks and appetizers in the casino while she was raking in the money. The problem wasn't just that he was attracted to her – or that there was definitely, undeniable chemistry between them – but that he enjoyed her company far too much. In spite of the suspicions he had about her and her motives he thought she was interesting – or maybe it was because of that.

Even though Jack hated clichés he had to admit it was nice to have the company and attention of a beautiful – and much younger – woman. Sam was smart as a whip, had a dark and secretive past, was certainly very attractive and charming but simply talking to her was… easy and comfortable, despite some of the tension even he could recognize existed between them. He had never been one for talking much and while she could technobabble him into a coma, there were also comfortable silences between them and their conversations varied from inane things to interesting or even complicated topics. Simply put she was dangerous because he liked her and at the same time he had to make sure she wouldn't do anything to fix the timeline.

Sighing, he grabbed the things he needed, slipped on his shoes and put the used towels away as he made his way out of the room, steeling himself for what was to come…

* * *

><p><strong>2148 hours<br>Downtown Restaurant  
>Atlantic City, New Jersey<strong>

Sam kept her eyes on the Colonel's face, gauging the sincerity of his question about her activity in Trenton the day before as she took another bite of food. "Yes, the exhibitions were wonderful," she replied slowly. "It's a shame you missed it… although, if you're anything like the Jack O'Neill I know you probably wouldn't have enjoyed it as much as I did."

"I'm sure it was _fascinating_," he said sarcastically, proving her point. "So, all you did was look at some rocks and stuff of dead people?"

Taking the last sip of wine and replacing her glass, she silently wondered if there was a hint of suspicion in his narrow eyes. Obviously he was in contact with the NID – she'd already met Maybourne in Alaska after all – so Malcolm and his partner had probably informed him when they'd lost sight of her as she hid out in the planetarium. The fact that her things there had remained untouched during her trip into Trenton and that she hadn't been hauled into custody yet told her the NID agents either hadn't checked the space properly or not at all. After dropping her ticket to the show they must have contacted O'Neill though, so Sam gave him a gentle smile. "I also got a ticket to one of the shows in the museum's planetarium." It wasn't even a lie.

"There was a planetarium?" Colonel O'Neill asked, his facial expression imitating surprise but his tone had taken on a slight whining tone. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, if you recall you were basically holed up in your room last night," she shrugged, taking another bite of food. "And you weren't very talkative before either." Waving her fork at him she turned accusing eyes on him. "As a matter of fact, you barely said a word and kept at least three feet between us in the casino after I got back."

He had the grace to blush and quickly looked down at his plate, no doubt feigning interest to avoid her seeing his reaction or having to come up with a reply. He surprised her with an explanation, though. "I had some work-related matters to do," he stated, looking at her with a carefully schooled expression. "And I got a call from my, eh… son. Don't get to see him as much as I'd hoped when he announced he would be back home for the summer."

Sam wondered if it really had been Tyler that had called him or if the brief hesitation was because of his wife, the one she wasn't supposed to know about. Pushing that thought to the back of her mind she leaned forward a bit, resting her hand near her wine glass. He quickly pulled his hand away when her fingertips touched his, but not fast enough to prevent a tingle running up her arm at the contact. "Is he all right?" He might not be her Jack and his kid definitely wasn't Charlie but the idea of any Jack O'Neill with a living son was enough to touch something inside of her.

"He's fine," O'Neill said, after clearing his throat awkwardly and placing his hand in his lap. "I guess he was just bored now that all his college friends aren't around."

"Understandable, I guess," she replied, even though she had no idea. Personally she'd never had any trouble entertaining herself when her friends weren't around and some physical or mental exercise, a good book, nice doohickey or studying had always kept her busy even when she'd still been in school. Cassandra was pretty much the same, although she'd always been more interested in socializing with others – surprisingly she'd always been good at making friends despite all the losses in her life – or trying out new hobbies, because there were so many things here they didn't have back on Hanka. "He doesn't have any hobbies?"

The Colonel shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with this direction which wasn't all that surprising since he'd been adamant about his personal life remaining private even though he seemed to be the one to always bring up the boy. "Right now I'm pretty sure he's just enjoying college, sports, parties… girls, of course."

"Ah," Sam said slowly, a smile on her face. Recalling the crystal entity and pictures of Charlie she'd seen she knew he'd been a mischievous, fine looking boy. Even the teenage clone Loki had made of her Jack had been cute so there was no doubt in her mind that an adult son of Jack O'Neill wouldn't be attractive. "So, he's missing his girlfriend?"

"No girlfriend, just… girl trouble."

"Enjoying the single life on campus, I take it," she concluded. It was something she was familiar with because of Cassie, who always seemed to change boyfriends every few weeks. Apparently, that was perfectly normal these days, or so she'd been told. Never mind that Cassandra always ended up 'heartbroken' after every other boy, a few times even calling her up in tears. At first Sam had been afraid that maybe it was the girl's reaction to losing her parents – her entire planet – as a child and then Janet when she was close to graduating high school, perhaps making her afraid to commit to someone because she might lose them. Not that she herself was an expert or anything with the few lovers and relationships she'd had throughout her adult life. However, according to Cassie's SGC therapist it was nothing to worry about and the girl was adjusting just fine to college life. Sam hadn't really wanted to think too much about what that meant for the average college student, but she'd been pleased it apparently wasn't anything serious.

O'Neill shot her a questioning look, a small grin on his face. "Sounds like you have some experience with it?"

"Who, me? No, trust me, I was far too busy to enjoy much of anything resembling a life at the Academy," Sam replied, thinking back to those days.

"And since then?"

Sam almost choked on her food at his question, wondering why he'd suddenly turned the subject to her dating habits. He'd asked it with a completely straight face so now she wasn't sure if she was just imagining things. "If you must know I was often too busy-"

"Too busy saving the planet?" O'Neill smirked, leaning back in his chair with his glass of wine. "You know what they say, all work and no play…"

"I didn't say there was nothing," she replied before taking another bite.

He gazed at her intensely, seeming to appraise her before he teasingly replied. "Oh, come on, you're an attractive woman with a good career and a sense of humor… I'm sure you've met lots of guys who were interested in you."

"Yes, but they tend to die," Sam deadpanned.

"Excuse me?" He coughed; evidently some of his wine had gone down his trachea at her words.

She patiently waited for his fit to be over, nibbling on a piece of meat. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," O'Neill replied, his voice a bit hoarse. "You weren't joking?"

"Well, not all of them are dead, but most are," she amended. After all, Pete had escaped her black widow curse when they'd been together and as far as she knew he was still alive when Ba'al's failsafe device had kicked in. As for her Jack, well, he'd died plenty of times but had always been revived – and once she completed her plan to restore the timeline he would live again. "If you don't mind, that's about everything I was willing to discuss about my personal life."

"Oh c'mon," he tried to cajole. "There was some recognition there earlier. So if not you, then…?"

Sam rolled her eyes and decided to relent. What harm could it do? "Fine, I was thinking about the daughter of a friend of mine."

"Anyone I know? I mean… here," Colonel O'Neill asked, with a wave of his hand to encompass his world.

"I highly doubt it," she muttered.

He nodded slowly, swirling the last of his wine around in his glass, his plate long cleared. "And this friend?"

Shrugging, Sam pushed her own plate away. She'd had more than enough and thinking of Janet – or Cassie, wherever she may be in this timeline – certainly wasn't improving her appetite. "I don't think so."

"Hey, what is it?" He asked, suddenly sounding concerned.

"Nothing," she dismissed it, annoyed with herself for giving something away. "It's just that she died a few years ago."

The Colonel suddenly reached out, his hand covering hers and giving it a soft squeeze. "I'm sorry," he murmured, looking as if he felt slightly awkward about holding her hand and feeling out of place. "Her daughter… she's about Tyler's age?"

Sam bobbed her head slowly, thinking of Cassandra only seemed to make her mood worse and she silently wondered how long she could hold it all together without anyone to talk to about her lost friends and family.

"Must be tough, I can't imagine how he would deal with something so devastating," he continued, almost as if musing aloud.

"Cassandra is a very strong, very brave girl," she agreed. She decided against pointing out how his line of work could have easily placed his son in Cassandra's shoes. When O'Neill simply nodded as if he understood, she felt an irrational surge of anger and disappointment, knowing he could never understand because he didn't know her and what she'd gone through in her life. Not like her Jack. "You see, Janet adopted her on her own when Cassie was just a kid; she'd already lost her first family and then, only a few years later Janet got killed in the field. She was the CMO, she wasn't even supposed to be there."

"Wow," O'Neill muttered pensively. "At least she still has you, right?" When she didn't respond he pushed his wine glass towards her with his free hand. "Here, you need it more than I do," he explained, gesturing at her empty glass with his thumb. "So, where's she originally from?"

"… Toronto," she replied after a beat, inwardly cringing at the awful lie. Not that it mattered now anyway, it wasn't as if it was the first she'd told and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Accepting his glass, she took a sip, letting the tasteful wine slide down her throat.

The Colonel's only reaction was a small frown, but he didn't seem all that fazed with her answer. Now he was simply watching her, his warm hand still resting on hers until he seemed to realize it and pulled it away quickly. "So, er… are you sure you're okay with going home tomorrow?"

Sam tried to ignore the loss of warmth from his hand or the little tendrils of pleasure the contact shot through her nervous system and figured a change of subject would probably be best. "Yeah, it's fine. It was fun while it lasted," she smirked. It had been fun indeed! The thrill of the chase – even if the NID agents here were a bit incompetent – had been a welcome sensation she had gone without for a very long time and the success of her mission here in New Jersey had left her feeling all warm and fuzzy on the inside, completely satisfied with how it had unfolded. Only a few more steps were left and then hopefully she and Daniel found what they were looking for and could get the hell out of here.

"I'd say," O'Neill grinned at her as he straightened in his chair. "I'd be sorely disappointed if this little trip hadn't been fun for you, though I would have had a hard time believing it after seeing you in the casino. Tell me, what are you going to with all your winnings?"

"Why, take over the world of course," Sam smiled sweetly at him.

* * *

><p>Jack kept a surreptitious eye on his charge, who was standing near the coat rack suckling on a dinner mint that had been offered with the bill, as he paid for their dinner. He had already called for a cab since they'd left the SUV at the hotel so they wouldn't have to be careful about what to drink – he hadn't been sure he could get through dinner with her without some liquid courage – and the taxi should arrive any minute now. When he was finished he pocketed his wallet and went back over to Sam, who seemed to be swaying ever so slightly on her feet. Oy!<p>

There had been a reason he'd suggested she have a coffee instead of dessert or even after, before they would leave like he had. But she had insisted she was fine – despite her four glasses of wine – and had ordered tiramisu and finished the last of his wine, while he'd gone for cake and a cup of coffee. Now that he thought about it she hadn't eaten much of her dinner either and he wasn't even sure if she'd had breakfast today. The few appetizers she'd had for lunch didn't really count as a meal either.

Damn, he should have made sure she'd eaten more today before letting her drink that much alcohol, no wonder she'd been so relaxed and open for the last half hour or so. It would probably be best to just go back to the hotel to make sure she got enough rest to sleep it off instead of taking her to the casino nearby like they'd originally intended – he doubted she was in a condition to count cards right now. Not that it was his job to take care of her or make sure she ate regular meals but he also didn't want to spend hours in a car with someone who was hung over, Jack told himself.

By the time he'd gotten their coats she was still swaying in the same spot and the taxi had arrived. He slipped on his black leather jacket but quickly gave up on his attempts to help her into her own when she started giggling and simply hung it on her shoulders, with the sleeves hanging limply at her sides. "C'mon, the cab's waiting," he gave her a gentle shove towards the exit but seeing her nearly trip over her heels, he quickly reached out a hand to steady her.

"Thanks," she murmured, as he steered her in the direction of the door.

Jack simply nodded, shivering when a chilly summer breeze blew past them as they stepped outside. Automatically he reached up to secure her coat, making sure it wouldn't slip off her shoulders while Sam regarded him quizzically. Realizing what he was doing, he awkwardly cleared his throat and stepped aside, opening the taxi door for her to draw attention away from himself. "Get in," he encouraged her with a jerk of his head when she just remained a few feet away, silently wondering if she was so far gone he'd have to bundle her into the car. God, he hoped not.

Shooting him a dazzling smile and seemingly having found her footing, she stepped towards the car. "Okay," she replied, making crunching sounds as she chewed on her dinner mint and got into the taxi. She was approximately as tall as Sara but with her high heels she was almost the same height as he was and it took her a bit of effort to fold her tall frame and settle on the seat.

"Scoot over," he muttered before joining her. The cabdriver gave him an exasperated look, as if he'd been waiting for twenty minutes instead of two, so he gave him the name of their hotel and turned back to Sam. "I doubt you'll be happy with me in the morning if I allow you to go waste your winnings in the casino now," he explained as the car took off. "Besides, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow and I'd rather you be fit enough to do some of the driving as well."

"Sure, I can sleep."

Glancing over at her Jack could see the exhaustion on her face and, remembering her nightmares during the road trip he wondered if she'd been sleeping well these past few nights. Of course he couldn't really ask her without letting her know he'd witnessed her experiencing one of those troubled dreams when he'd gone out of his way to pretend he hadn't at the time. As if to prove her words she closed her eyes with a contented smile and he took the opportunity to look her over. Her coat was miraculously still in place and despite the balmy evening she seemed to have huddled into it a bit, shielding most of her upper body from him. When she shifted in her seat though the skirt of her dress rid up a bit from her knees and with the small side split he was suddenly treated to a glimpse of her right thigh.

Jack briefly wondered if perhaps he'd had too much alcohol too when he found it difficult to tear his eyes away from the exposed creamy skin, but he hadn't even finished his second – or was it his third? – glass of wine. Plus he'd had a coffee and he'd eaten a lot more than she had. He definitely didn't have any problems walking and the only reason he was having difficulty concentrating was because of the view, he decided. Forcing himself to look away he noticed the driver smirking at him via the rearview mirror and glared at him, silently warning him to keep his eyes on the road.

"Wow," Sam uttered, her eyes snapping open as they made a sharp turn and she fell against him.

"It's okay," he reassured her, trying to ignore the feel of her leg suddenly pressed up against his, her warmth seeping through his jeans. As she tried to sit up again and put some space between she rested her hand on his thigh and he awkwardly patted it. "We're almost there," he added, prying the fingers loose because he was sure the illicit touch was going straight to his head.

She flushed and mumbled an apology. "Sorry about that." Averting her head she busied herself with straightening her coat and despite his words about reaching the hotel soon, she fumbled with the seatbelt.

Jack watched her actions from the corner of his eye, his own face turned towards opened window hoping the cool breeze would clear his befuddled mind a bit. He hadn't dared putting the seatbelt on because that would have meant more physical contact and leaning into her personal space, something that didn't seem to be very wise. The way her proximity affected him was ridiculous and he blamed it on the alcohol.

It had been a while since he'd been out drinking mostly because his assignments usually took him away from home for quite a while and he couldn't drink while on duty. Whenever he was home he wanted to actually spend time at _home_, so the most he'd had to drink was maybe one or two beers and that had been a while ago too. Not to mention the company; Sara didn't really seem to like going out to dinner, thinking it was a waste of time and money so if he did go out drinking it was usually to a bar with very male friends – and none of them dressed quite like Samantha Carter. "Ah, look, we're here," he said as the hotel came in view. For a moment he was tempted to fling open the door right now and get out, but he figured it would be safer to wait until the cab had stopped near the door.

"Good," Sam mumbled, her voice muffled by the hand in front of her mouth. She yawned and stretched her frame as best she could. "I really am tired."

The driver leered at her via his rearview mirror once he stopped the car and Jack was tempted to punch or threaten him with bodily harm but realized just in time he was overreacting. Damn wine was affecting his rational thought process; he much preferred beer or something stronger like scotch or whiskey. Instead of doing something stupid he paid the driver and opened the door to get out of the cab. Jack quickly averted his gaze and forced himself to look at Sam's face when her heeled feet were the first thing coming out of the taxi, giving him an excellent view of her long, shapely legs. Seeing her look of total concentration he reminded himself she was most likely tipsy and offered her his hand. That way she'd get out faster too and he wouldn't be tempted to look anywhere else but her face. "There you go," he said, when her long fingers wrapped around his and she pulled herself up.

"Thank you." She stepped away from the car, allowing him to close the door and straightened her dress and coat. "God, maybe I shouldn't have had so much wine," she muttered under her breath.

Jack winced at the comment as he watched her walk towards the hotel door on unsteady feet, somehow knowing it wasn't like her to lose control like this. He felt responsible not just because he'd let her drink all those glasses but he'd recognized the expressions on her face when he'd brought up the subject of her love life and dating habits, which had eventually led to her surprisingly honest – at least he assumed it was the truth – revelation about her late friend, whose adoptive daughter obviously meant a lot to her. Realistically speaking he knew that with the assignments he'd had in the past there had been a good chance for his own son, who apparently was of similar age as Cassie, to grow up without his father.

Tyler had always been a good, well-adjusted kid despite him not being around much when growing up and Jack knew he had Sara to thank for that. He didn't even want to think about how his own death could have affected his son's life or worse, losing his mother. That Cassie girl had apparently lost both her parents and then after being adopted by a good single and caring woman – at least that was the impression he'd gotten from Sam – she had lost her second mother after a few years. No wonder Sam felt for her and told him how brave she was! Everyone always said kids were resilient but no child should have to go through something like that!

He was brought out of his musings by the bright lights of the hotel lobby after nearly bumping into the door, which Sam hadn't bothered to hold for him. "Oh, you'll be just fine after a good night's rest," he told her. The drive over here and the late night's breeze had obviously done her good, seeing how she was already walking normally.

"I hope so," she said with a wan smile and heavy-lidded eyes when he caught up with her at the elevator. "Just so you know; I will not be doing any driving for the next eighteen hours or so."

"Yes Ma'am," Jack quipped. He had already decided he would be the one to drive the first eight hours or so and since she would probably need a few more hours of sleep and his clothes needed washing, it would be close to noon before they'd leave Atlantic City behind them tomorrow.

Sam glanced over her shoulder when voices were heard behind them and following her line of sight he realized she was frowning at the flock of people entering the hotel. Clearly irritable she pushed the elevator button repeatedly until the doors opened. "Finally," she muttered.

Grinning, he batted her hand away and stepped into the car, leaning against the back wall. She wobbled a bit on her feet when she followed him in, looking tired as she hit the button for their floor. He was about to make a quip about the group they'd seen in the lobby when someone stuck his hand between the elevator's closing doors. "Oh, great," Jack sighed, as those people suddenly all entered the car.

"Oh God," Sam breathed when she was pushed further into the car and lost her balance, falling into him.

Jack grabbed her arm, holding her up when two more men stepped in, forcing her even closer to him. He tried to ignore the warmth of her bare arm and the strong, tensed muscles he could feel under her soft skin when a few people in the group moved around to push the right buttons for their floors. Despite the obvious tension between them and the dangerously electric feel of her touch, he tugged her closer not wanting one of the others to knock her over – or so he told himself. "Isn't there a maximum number of people or weight an elevator can hold?"

She giggled at his attempted grouse, clearly intoxicated and tired. "I can't see the sign from here," she murmured, making a half-hearted effort to look for it by glancing over her shoulder, which only served to press her body against his. "But I'm sure I could calculate it for you…"

"That's okay," he quickly reassured her even though his heart was thumping at her proximity. When her coat slid off her shoulders he caught it with his free hand on reflex and suddenly found himself almost nose to nose with her. At this distance he could clearly see her dilated pupils and if it hadn't been for her sudden shortness of breath or the increased beating at her pulse point he would have blamed it on the alcohol. His own body seemed to be on fire when she blushed and he too found it hard to breathe. Suddenly she was flush against him, her curves fitting almost perfectly against the hard planes of his body and the voices of the people around them faded into the background. Her hands had somehow found their way to his chest, clutching his top under his open jacket and parted shirt. The flimsy white fabric was the only thing between his skin and her hands and that touch aroused him even more and he knew she could tell from the way they fitted together and her little gasp when he moved his hips.

In response Sam raked her nails over his chest, making him growl lowly in his throat – a sound he'd never made before. Their noses bumped gently when they slowly leaned in further and he could feel her soft breath on his lips, she smelled like mint and tiramisu. Jack wondered if he would be able to taste the faint traces of Merlot on her lips and realizing he wanted to know, he closed the distance between them.

_Ding!_

They jumped guiltily apart at the elevator's sound. Jack hissed as his head bumped in the wall and Sam nearly tripped over her own feet, reaching for the coat he was still holding in one hand. He looked down at the coat, both their hands clutching at the garment and he quickly released it. "Sorry," he muttered, not daring to look at her. Instead, he looked at the opened doors and realized they'd reached their floor. Ignoring the looks from the group of people around them he made his way out of the car. "You coming?" He threw the question over his shoulder, belatedly realizing the unfortunate choice of words when she blushed crimson and some of the men snickered. "Oh, for crying out loud!"

Sam pushed past him, her head lowered under the pretext of searching her coat's pockets. "I'm just going to…" She trailed off, briefly glancing up to look at a point over his shoulder and gestured at her door.

"Yeah, eh, sure," Jack replied hoarsely. "G'night Sam," he whispered, walking over to his own room a couple of doors down. He waited in the corridor until she'd disappeared into her room and the door closed behind her before he fumbled in his jeans pockets for his keycard, which was quite uncomfortable with how tight his jeans suddenly was. As soon as his door was open he stumbled into his room, kicked it shut and sagged against the wall.

He couldn't believe that had almost happened! What the hell was wrong with him? Christ, he'd known she was going to be trouble from the start but he hadn't expected this… irresistible attraction and how easily he'd be drawn in by her enigmatic smile. Oh crap, how was he supposed to get through these next few days cooped up in a car with her?


	21. Day Fifty One of a New Life

**Day 51  
>I-76W<br>Pennsylvania**

Jack cast a furtive glance at the quiet woman in the passenger seat next to him before looking at the time and letting out a soft sigh. He was bored. They had been on the road for almost six hours since leaving their hotel in Atlantic City around noon and Sam had hardly said a word. Not that he'd been very talkative either but he blamed that on her surprising him with her presence earlier this morning at breakfast. After the way they had parted last night he hadn't expected to see much of her up until they were supposed to leave, if not because of what had almost happened between them then because of a mild hangover considering how much she'd had to drink the night before.

The meal had been awkward and uncomfortable though because of the tension and except for greetings and orders neither had said much because of it. The moment Sam had finished her coffee she'd excused herself, mumbling about having to pack, claiming she wasn't really hungry anyway. Her escape had given him the time to get his clothes cleaned and come up with a plan for the rest of the day to find out how they should handle that almost-kiss. It hadn't worked though because he had been unable to broach the subject with her and despite looking rather refreshed, she'd still appeared tired and her eyes had been a bit red – either from the alcohol or a lack of sleep – so he wasn't sure just how far gone she had been last night and if she actually remembered.

He didn't think he'd ever be able to forget and could still recall the taste of her breath and how well her body fitted to his. Jack figured it was burned into his memory because of the pivotal moment and what it would mean for his marriage if he _had_ kissed her, perhaps it was different for her but he still found it hard to believe she had conveniently forgotten something so poignant. Yet he still hadn't brought it up. Maybe just forgetting it had almost happened would be best. He should just pretend and move on, it certainly seemed like Sam had. To him she was too tense and evading to _not_ remember, though. Of course, it was possible her behavior had nothing to do with the moment in the elevator and it was just embarrassment that she had gotten tipsy in front of him when she always seemed to have such self-control. Well, more than tipsy if she had experienced an oh so convenient blackout and couldn't recall the last twenty minutes before she'd gone to bed…

Sneaking another peek at her still form, he reached out a hand and snagged one of the candy bars he'd bought at the gas station earlier in the afternoon. They had been driving a little over an hour and had just left New Jersey behind them when he realized they were getting low on fuel. Neither of them had been in the mood for lunch before leaving the hotel so they'd just had a sandwich and some coffee, which meant he needed to pee and get some snacks for the rest of the day by that time anyway. Sam had given him some monosyllabic answers, which in itself had surprised him because she usually seemed to use much longer words and had simply followed him into the gas station. When he'd gotten back from the bathroom she had already been waiting in the car with the snacks, some bottled water and two coffees. She had turned on the radio when they hit the road again but about half an hour later she had kicked off her sandals, gotten comfortable and closed her eyes.

By now Jack had already tried all the available radio stations and he'd already considered popping in one of his CDs, but he was afraid the change in volume or just his movements alone would wake up Sam. Her sunglasses had been perched on her nose for most of the afternoon so he couldn't see her eyes but even if he could he'd probably be unable to determine if she was exhausted. Her eyes hadn't been extremely red this morning and he couldn't really tell if they were puffy because of the makeup she was wearing, something that he up until Atlantic City hadn't seen much on her. Considering she had been this quiet for the last four and a half hours with only the occasional movement every now and then to get more comfortable he figured she needed the rest. At least he could take comfort in the fact her eyes hadn't been bloodshot, unlike his.

After returning to his room the enormity of what he had almost done sunk in and even today Jack still found it hard to believe he'd gotten so carried away with the moment. If the elevator hadn't stopped at their floor he would have kissed her, there was no doubt about it in his mind. It was almost as if he was under her spell and he'd just been drawn in, his body responding to the sudden overload of sensory information and completely short-circuiting his brain. Yeah, that was probably it, he told himself.

It had taken a while for the adrenaline to wear off and for his body to realize nothing was going to happen and calm down but even then, in bed, he hadn't been able to sleep. Normally he would count himself lucky for not having any nightmares after such an intense day but with the way he'd been twisting and turning in bed all night he probably hadn't fallen asleep long enough to actually enter the dream state. Hence his frustration, irritability and bloodshot eyes. Not to mention ignoring his cell phone after seeing it was a call from home – meaning Sara or Tyler – and he just hadn't been able to talk to either of them, so he'd let it go to voicemail. Logically he knew that technically he hadn't done anything wrong but the intent had been there and knowing that made him feel like a bastard. He would just have to listen to the message tonight, when Sam and he would have a place to sleep and he could retreat to his room.

Suppressing a yawn Jack finally acknowledged to himself that exhaustion from his sleepless night was catching up with him and that ignoring the lump on the back of his head didn't mean it would actually stop throbbing. With a tired sigh, he popped the last of the candy bar in his mouth, reached up one hand and slipped his fingers under his sunglasses to rub his burning eyes. Keeping them on the road, he fumbled between the two chairs for his water bottle, flipped its cap and took a sip. If only it were coffee! A glance on the GPS told him they were only a couple of miles away from Pittsburgh and he'd already decided that's where they were going to stop and have dinner, whether Sam agreed or not. He would just have to keep himself entertained for the next twenty minutes or so until he'd find a diner or something equally suitable where to could grab a quick bite.

From the corner of his eye he noticed Sam squirming in her seat and for a moment he thought she was waking up, but she merely shifted her legs a bit and let her head fall back against the headrest. He figured circulation to her right foot was probably in danger of getting cut off since she had folded her right leg toward her body with its foot tucked under her left knee, a position that didn't seem all that comfortable to him but he recalled having seen her sitting in it before on her sofa and if he wasn't mistaken she'd also spent a lot of time sitting cross-legged while she'd been in custody.

At least she was wearing jeans again instead of the dresses she'd donned in the casino, he thought to himself. Not that he hadn't noticed how comfortable yet well fitting they were or how long her legs appeared to be in the dark blue color but it was better than seeing her tempting pale skin or watching her skirt ride up a bit whenever she moved. He'd purposely looked the other way when she'd walked in front of him, not wanting to stare at her lovely six and he'd tried to ignore her – and her jeans and formfitting shirt in particular – for the most part as she sat next to him, with little space between them.

But now, as he changed gears to switch lanes so he could take the next exit, he could feel the heat coming from her leg as she'd moved it closer to the console. Once he was driving down the avenue there weren't any cars ahead of them, so he glanced down to her leg and gulped when he saw the toes from her right foot peeking out from under her knee. _Oh crap! _It frightened him to realize how tempting he found it to reach out and touch her just because his hand had come this close to her leg or foot while changing gears, even though he knew very well that he was supposed to keep his attention on the road while driving. Perhaps he'd done more damage to his brain with that little bump of his head in the elevator than he initially thought…

Realizing he needed something to distract himself from… well, Sam and her presence, he fumbled in the center console's cubbyhole looking for one of his CDs. Not finding anything, he briefly took his eyes off the road and glanced at the small space. Lots of crap from their trip up here but no CDs. That left the glove department… He took his bottle from the cup holder and took another sip of tepid water before placing it back, all the while making sure to keep his attention on the road and surrounding traffic. Stopping for a stop sign, Jack steeled himself and leaned towards the glove compartment, trying to ignore the fact he was almost invading Sam's space and could smell her shampoo and popped it open. His eyes were still on the road as he rummaged through the compartment and he smirked triumphantly when his fingers closed over a stack of CDs.

Straightening in his seat with one of his favorite albums in hand, he briefly glanced at Sam but still couldn't tell if she was actually awake because of the sunglasses and her still form. Jack's attention was back on the road, signaling and maneuvering through traffic as he drove into the city, opening the case with one hand and popped the CD out. He discarded its case in the cubbyhole between their seats instead of risking both their safety by placing it back in the glove compartment and slipped the CD into the player. From his periphery he noticed Sam's head move to the left, startling him and only his years of training prevented his body from jerking away and thereby swerving the car off the road or head on into traffic.

When he stopped for a traffic light he looked her way again and followed her line of sight. It seemed her eyes were fixed on the player as the music softly sounded through the SUV but she still hadn't said a word or gave any indication that she was awake aside from the minute turn of her head. Double-checking the light was still red Jack reached up to Sam's face and carefully lifted the sunglasses from her nose. He was pleased to learn he didn't leave her completely unaffected at hearing her sharp intake of breath before he was looking at those bright baby blues of hers. He let the glasses dangle from his fingers but held her surprisingly clear gaze. "I didn't mean to wake you," he said in a soft tone, jerking his head towards the CD player. "The radio was driving me bonkers though and I was bored."

"You didn't," Sam replied, her voice slightly hoarse from sleep or disuse.

"You sure?" Jack asked, turning his attention back to the light just in time as it changed to green and dropping the glasses in his lap. "Because it seemed to me like you'd dozed off. I figured you were snoozing or napping but five hours probably qualifies as actually sleeping."

He saw her shake her head minutely from the corner of his eye as he joined the rest of the traffic. "I wasn't sleeping."

"Sure looked like it to me," he muttered. Casting a quick glance at her he gave a reassuring grin. "It's okay, I'm sure you could use it after last night… I mean, you probably had to sleep off the effects of the alcohol," he hastened to say, not wanting to imply that almost kiss of theirs had kept both of them up for most of the night. "As a matter of fact, I didn't think you'd be up as early as you were this morning."

"I'm a military brat who joined the Air Force herself, there was no sleeping in at our house when my Dad was around and there certainly wasn't at the Academy. Getting up at the crack of dawn is a habit I can't shake, even when I'm off duty."

Jack chose to ignore her choice of words, unsure if it had been a standard reply or if she simply considered herself to be 'off duty' in this new life of hers. "Ah, well, you couldn't have gotten more than what, five or six hours of sleep? No wonder you dozed off with all that alcohol still in your system."

"I didn't doze off," she said, a bit more forcefully now. "I was merely… thinking."

"Thinking, huh? Well, you certainly took your time…" He shot her an incredulous look before focusing back on the road. The idea of her having been awake all this time didn't just piss him off because it meant he wouldn't have had to suffer in silence about his boredom but it also made him wonder if she'd been aware of his lingering glances… Noticing she was still staring at the display, he let out an exasperated sigh. "Is there something wrong with the music? I told you the radio was crap and since you were, eh, thinking and unresponsive I figured you wouldn't mind me popping in a CD."

She finally tore her gaze away from it and gave him an inscrutable look. "It's fine, I just didn't expect you to… It's fine," she reiterated after letting her voice trail off. "I like opera."

"Really?" He asked sarcastically, not having gotten that impression from her so far. As a matter of fact, he didn't know that many people who actually appreciated Ruggero Leoncavallo's work and was aware that not many associated it with him. Sara didn't mind it if he played it on occasion but it wasn't her favorite and he usually only played it when he was alone in the car because Tyler didn't like it either and he'd rather enjoy the time with his family than argue about music or listen to his kid complain about it.

"Pagliacci is a tragedy." Sam surprised him with her answer and he knew it showed on his face. "Vesti la giubba, right?"

Impressed with her accuracy he merely nodded and tried to enjoy the moving aria, but suddenly the similarities between the lyrics and their situation struck him. Granted, she wasn't his wife and hadn't been unfaithful but he himself had been close to cheating on Sara by almost kissing her last night. Still, the show – or his assignment – must go on, right? Suddenly Jack was wondering if just by thinking about kissing Sam, _wanting_ to kiss her in the elevator, he wasn't already unfaithful to his wife…

"Where are we going?"

"Huh?" Jack muttered, glad she'd pulled him from his pensive mood. Seeing her gesturing at the GPS he cleared his throat. "Oh well, I don't know about you but I'm starving and I figured we could stop by a diner, have a quick meal, here in town. Then you can take over the wheel and drive the next few hours."

"Yeah sure you betcha," Sam replied, her tone sounding a bit forced and he wondered if perhaps she also knew the meaning of the aria they'd both been enjoying up until a few minutes ago.

* * *

><p><strong>2313 hours<br>I-80W  
>Ohio<strong>

It wasn't until Colonel O'Neill had finally closed his eyes and dozed off in his seat, head lolling towards the passenger door window that Sam felt like she could breathe freely. The tension between them had reached new heights a few hours ago, around the time they'd stopped in Pittsburgh for dinner. The classic diner they'd picked out had been crowded and the booths were cramped with too little space under the tables, as they'd soon realized when his outstretched legs bumped into hers. The added height of her wedged sandals had only made matters worse because she kept hitting the underside of the table with her knees unless she stretched her own legs, making her feet to come into contact with his calves which in itself wasn't that bad but with the already present tension and the sensual feel his rough jeans against the soft skin of her bare feet… well, she had lost her appetite and could barely get anything down her throat.

It seemed the Colonel had felt the same with the way he just poked at his dinner instead of wolfing it down like he'd done the past few days. The red jello he'd ordered for dessert had been shoved aside as he muttered something about not being hungry anymore and even though she hadn't finished her own plate, Sam had taken the dessert from him; it was a shame to waste perfectly good jello, even if it was red. At least it glided down her throat easily, didn't require much chewing and it was better than not eating anything at all, she figured. O'Neill had simply been watching her in silence as she ate it, drinking his coffee and soon thereafter they got up, paid and left in unspoken agreement.

She had gladly taken the wheel, happy to have an excuse not to pay too much attention to him in the car. The sun had set by the time they entered Ohio and made her sunglasses redundant, so she'd hung them on her shirt's neckline but had felt oddly naked without them whenever she felt the Colonel's eyes on her. At least when she had been the passenger she could hide behind them and her closed eyes, enjoying the deep state of meditation only achievable by kelno'reem to think through yesterday's events and the added silence from him presuming she was resting or asleep had been a bonus.

For some reason he'd felt the need to talk now that they were both awake and in the car but the conversation had been awkward and eventually petered out to make room for the all too familiar oppressive silence that seemed to have reigned all day. The only audible sounds in the SUV for the following two hours had been their breathing and the soft noise of the classical music she always associated with her Jack, when this O'Neill had finally succumbed to the exhaustion clear in the way he held himself and his tired features. She was getting tired as well and his presence and the darn opera CDs were getting on her nerves. Normally she wouldn't mind continue driving – it had only been a few hours for her after all – but she didn't like being on the road after midnight in an unfamiliar area when her mind wasn't entirely clear. It was less than half an hour to Toledo and Sam figured that would be a good place to stop, get some shuteye and refresh in the morning so they could get back on the road as fast as they could. The sooner they left the sooner she would be back 'home' and he could go back to the base, meaning she'd have the time and space to breathe and let her guard down a bit for the first time in two weeks.

She didn't want to think about how strange it would be to _not_ have him around her all the time anymore because obviously being in his presence did strange things to her, as she'd proven last night. Not even kelno'reem had been able to clear her head about the events from the evening before. Obviously her first mistake had been drinking too much wine. Although, considering the wine had only affected her as much as it had because she hadn't eaten properly all day – which wasn't smart to begin with since she was still trying to regain her old weight from those weeks in custody – maybe it wasn't her _first_ bad choice per se, but it had still been a bad move. In hindsight Sam recognized the foolishness of using alcohol to relax and loosen up a bit in any Jack O'Neill's presence but at the time it had seemed like a good idea to get the courage to flirt with him a bit and to test him. See how he would react and if he'd try to use her seemingly drunken state to his advantage.

Of course, that was on the premise she didn't actually get drunk but only pretended to be intoxicated. It wasn't after she'd had her fourth glass and had finished talking about Janet and Cassie that she felt the effects and, feeling morose and thankful for O'Neill's offer she'd finished his wine too. It probably hadn't helped that dark rum was one of the ingredients of her delicious tiramisu. In retrospect four and a half glasses of wine in a few hours with her current weight was a _bad_ idea and normally she would have never had that much to drink in her Jack's presence, especially if she wasn't at her own house. Well, with the exception of that stuff she'd drunk on P3X-595 which had led to an embarrassing situation for her in the beginning of the Program and had been reason enough for her to swear off alcohol for the next few years…

She reckoned her blood alcohol percentage last night would have been enough to get a ticket had she been driving – not that she'd ever drink and drive – and even though she had exaggerated her tipsiness in front of Colonel O'Neill, she had definitely been slightly impaired and her fairly new and relatively unused high heels hadn't helped her imbalance any. Somewhere in her subconscious the fact that it was their last evening in Atlantic City, the last time they'd have a decent meal and could drink anything alcoholic for the next few days or so and wouldn't have to drive back to the hotel probably played a part in her behavior as well.

To her surprise he hadn't really taken advantage of her inebriation by asking questions she normally wouldn't have answered and had mostly let her set the pace and topic of the conversation. Still, she hadn't been _that_ far gone and she _had_ been relaxed and loosened up despite the sexual tension that seemed to exist between her and Colonel O'Neill. The cool breeze outside of the restaurant had done wonders for her as had the cab ride, even though the tension between them had almost sizzled when their bodies had been pressed together because of a sharp turn. Sitting so closely together with nowhere to go had only served to make her more aware of him, how attractive he was in those jeans and his black leather jacket, how much he smelled like her Jack and how intense and heated his gaze was when it rested on her, even without looking she'd felt his eyes on her.

One of the things she'd been curious about from the beginning was how he would react to her and if it was similar to her Jack – at any given point during their working or personal relationship – because there were so many similarities between them and that made it easy to assume she would know what to expect from him. But there were also many differences, one being that this O'Neill had never really worked with her, at least not in the same capacity, but perhaps more importantly was that he was married to Sara.

Despite the many theories Sam had envisioned the moment in the elevator between her and this O'Neill had been unexpected, but it certainly drove home the point that it was so easy for the line between her Jack and Colonel O'Neill to blur. As they'd been standing there, pressed together and his intense gaze darkened by lust all she could do was react and lean in, touch him and let her nails rake over that oh so familiar chest. Looking back, she knew that in that moment she hadn't cared he wasn't her Jack because he and the feelings he brought out in her had been so achingly familiar. On one hand she wished he had just kissed her and then they would've gotten it over with, she would _know_ the difference and on the other hand she was grateful for the elevator's impeccable timing. Back in her room she'd guzzled down a glass of water for every glass of wine she'd had, which had definitely helped in not being hung-over today before crawling into bed, but sleep hadn't come. Instead she'd lain awake for most of the night agonizing over that almost kiss and the desire she'd felt for someone who wasn't her Jack.

Even now, after thinking all night and entering a surprisingly comfortable kelno'reem in the car earlier this afternoon she still didn't know how sheshould feel about it. That aria from the Colonel's CD, one of Jack's favorites of course, had only made it worse. Not just the part about infidelity and wondering if she had suddenly become 'the other woman' or, worse, if she was the cheater and O'Neill 'the other man', but also the part about the show having to go on. Wasn't that exactly what was happening here? She could pretend all she wanted but in the end she was in the wrong timeline and her Jack was dead. If her plan would fail she'd be stuck here with no hope of going back unless Ba'al would show up and she and the guys would miraculously find his temporal device and use it to fix the timeline…

Another thing that weighed heavily on Sam's mind was if she was doing the right thing with Colonel O'Neill. She couldn't afford to care about him or his feelings but what about Jack? Playing O'Neill ensured he was distracted and she could carry out her plans but how far could she take it without feeling like she was betraying Jack? At the moment she could only hypothesize how her plan would fix everything and she was unsure whether they would retain their memories. Could she face Jack after her behavior with O'Neill? Would he understand if she told him and would it be better or worse if she'd cheated on him with his counterpart instead of some random stranger?

Sam was pulled from her thoughts when the GPS beeped and she realized their next exit was coming up. Casting a glance at her passenger she was surprised he'd slept through it but would let him have these last few minutes of sleep before waking him. Ten minutes later she was pulling into the parking lot of the motel they'd been staying in on their way up to Atlantic City and gently shook him. "Colonel, we're in Toledo. It's time to wake up unless you want to sleep in the car."

"Huh?" He muttered, blinking rapidly at her.

"Motel," she replied as she parked the SUV. "It's close to midnight so I figured we might as well get some shuteye. We can go up to Minneapolis or maybe even St Cloud tomorrow."

O'Neill nodded and opened the door, slipping out of the car. "Yeah sure you betcha."

Sam kept an eye on him as he groggily leaned against the closed door on the other side while she bundled the trash in a bag and got out. "Colonel?"

"I'll get us checked in," he threw over his shoulder as he walked off.

Sighing, she got out of the car, threw the trash in a garbage can and pulled their bags out of the SUV. By the time O'Neill had returned she was leaning against the hood, car all locked up, their bags at her feet and she was enjoying the surprisingly clear night sky. "Two rooms?"

The Colonel chuckled at that and held up both keys before throwing one at her. "A great night for stargazing," he commented as he too looked up. "Almost makes you wonder if there's anything prettier than the moon in a clear sky decorated with thousands of stars."

Surprised by the comment she looked back up. It was indeed a great sight and Sam quickly identified several constellations all the while wondering when she'd paid this much attention to Earth's sky. It had to have been with Jack and his telescope, prior to her assignment to Atlantis or maybe during one of the few leaves she'd taken in that time. "Well," she said, smirking slightly, "I have to admit the sight of two moons is pretty spectacular."

"Two?" He questioned with narrowed eyes, as if he didn't believe her.

"There are actually five orbiting M35-117 but you can only see two with the naked eye," she replied, thinking of New Lantea where Atlantis would have been as she'd left it if it hadn't been for Ba'al's failsafe device. There had been many nights she'd sat on the balcony just looking at the Pegasus sky and trying to familiarize herself with it. "If you don't mind, I'm going to head to my room now," Sam said after a beat, picking up her bag and leaving him standing there staring at her.

* * *

><p><strong>Day 52<br>I-90W  
>Indiana<strong>

Jack adjusted his sunglasses and blindly reached for his coffee cup between the two seats of the SUV. It was still early, the sun had only just come up about half an hour ago and they had just entered Indiana. After another restless night he'd gotten up a little after 0500 hours and after a quick shower he'd eventually gone out to get them some breakfast hoping the coffee wouldn't be cold by the time Sam woke up. To his surprise she'd been sitting on a bench near the parking lot, watching the twilight all ready to hit the road. From the looks of it she hadn't gotten much rest either but at least the tension between them had been absent and he was grateful for it because he wasn't sure if he could survive another day in the car without suffocating. He'd been mightily pleased to see Sam looked like crap too when she took off her sunglasses for a moment because that made it easier for him to fight this attraction.

Of course, with the stretch of road before them more or less empty it had been tempting to sneak furtive glances at her. With the sunglasses back on her nose and a small smile on her face as she watched the sunrise he had felt the tension go up a notch again. To think they still had about twelve hours to go before they could call it a day!

"So," he started, watching her from the corner of his eye as she nibbled on a donut. If he wasn't mistaken that was the still her first donut, while he'd already wolfed down three. "That planet with those two moons, did it have two suns too?" Jack questioned, barely getting the ridiculous question out of his mouth but he was desperate for a topic of conversation.

"Nope," she said softly.

"I guess that makes sense," he replied. "It would probably be too hot with two suns and they would have to be pretty close together for the planet to orbit them both. Or on exact opposites."

Sam turned to him then, donut in hand and a patient smile on her face. "Have you ever seen _Star Wars_?"

"Huh?"

"The space opera film series created by George Lucas?"

He pulled a face. "Sounds like science fiction to me, I'm not a fan of the genre," he added. Canting his head he looked at her. "Your whole life sounds like science fiction and you still watch that crap?"

"It's a classic," she said defensively. "Come on, you've never seen it? Not even with your son? It has two sequels and a prequel trilogy. You know, Luke, Darth Vader, the Force …"

"Oh! You mean the _The Adventures of Luke Starkiller_," Jack replied, digging in his memories. "What, Tyler has them on DVD," he added when she frowned at him, trying to ignore the flush creeping up his cheekbones. It wasn't that he _liked_ science fiction but he figured there really wasn't any escaping it with a kid who liked explosions and gunfire in his movies. Even he had to admit there were some pretty cool special effects in them.

Sam shook her head briefly. "No, it's just the title… I guess breakfast cereals aren't the only thing that's not the same in this timeline."

"Now see, if it had been called something cool like _Star Wars_…"He grinned, letting his voice trail off. "What does that have to do with anything anyway?"

"Remember Tatooine, Luke's homeplanet? It's in a binary star system and has two suns," Sam explained.

Jack nodded in understanding, a small smile on his face when he looked at her. "Yeah, that was pretty cool. Don't tell me you've found the planet?"

She chuckled under her breath, her shoulders gently shaking with laugher. "Not Tatooine, but I've been to one that comes pretty close. Only it wasn't all deserts and the plant life isn't exactly what you'd call lush green."

"No?"

"No, more like shades of grey, some even appear to be black."

He grinned at that, a twinkle in his dark eyes as he turned his attention back on the road. "Sweet! How does that happen?"

"Do you know what a red dwarf is?"

Jack bobbed his head in confirmation and she didn't seem surprised by it. He tried to recall if he'd mentioned a love for astronomy before; he'd already admitted once he enjoyed stargazing and had wanted to go into space as a young boy. Or maybe his counterpart had the same hobby? Perhaps that's how the guy ended up with that Stargate Program of theirs in the first place. "They are at least half the mass of the sun and basically just cool, faint stars that can live up to several trillion years. They're a pretty common star type in our galaxy," he replied.

Sam nodded, apparently pleased with his answer. "Yes, many multi-star systems contain red dwarfs. The planet we gated to was orbiting two of these dim red dwarf suns close together. As you probably already know," she smiled at him, "the temperature of a star determines its color and hence, the color of light used for photosynthesis. The process by which plants produce energy from sunlight," she explained. "So depending on the colors the plants would evolve very differently. Plants with dim red dwarf suns for example could appear black to our eyes, absorbing across the entire visible wavelength in order to use as much of the available light as possible."

"That makes sense," Jack murmured.

"Yes, some of them were even able to use infrared or ultraviolet radiation to drive photosynthesis," she added.

"Cool," he smirked. "Is that the only time?"

She bit her lip before coming up with an answer, no doubt trying to sift through all the missions she'd been on. "Well, there was that time on P9Q-281," Sam mused. His confusion must have been obvious because she quickly elaborated. "We had sent a probe to that planet and it recorded some interesting writing so I was sent through with a team. By the time we got there it turned out another sun had risen and the temperature was increasing rapidly. We couldn't dial back because the heat caused a malfunction and unsurprisingly there was no indigenous life or anywhere to hide."

"How hot was it?"

"Extreme temperatures, we would have reached two-hundred degrees Fahrenheit in less than two hours before we got help. In the end we overcame the problem," she shrugged, not going into detail, "and got home safely. But you can understand I was too busy trying to survive to admire the suns."

Jack smiled wryly, his eyes on the colored streaks in the sky ahead. "So, what kind of name is pee nine… something something, anyway?"

She snorted at his attempt at levity. "Ah, it was based on a binary code the computer used for extrapolation," she explained, before taking sip of her mochaccino.

"Which must make it very easy to remember," he replied sarcastically as he followed her example and brought his coffee cup up to his mouth.

Sam remained quiet, appearing lost in thought for a moment. He wondered how many times she'd had this conversation with other people already and if the codes were used on purpose, to prevent people from storing the actual address to a certain planet in their heads or some other database. That Jackson guy had mentioned how Sam had made a dialing computer to get the Stargate to work and Sam had gone into some details about the process during one of her 'interviews' but as far as he could recall she'd never explained those designations. It made sense though if their computer did all the work because then there would be no need for others to learn the address and they would be unable to give it up during interrogations, even if they wanted to. The only people who'd know anything other than the designation from her program would probably be the ones doing the dialing and maybe the base commander and team leader if that was the one who prepped the missions.

After everything he'd learned about Sam in these past few days he wondered if the Navy's scientists would be able to come up with a similar program and create a database with addresses without her help. Even if she was to be consulted about it would she actually want to help? Would she be able to reverse the process and give them the addresses from the designations she no doubt held in that big brain of hers. Mitchell had been asked for a list of planets he'd visited during his time on SG-1 but now Jack realized why the guy had been stumped; not only would it be a high number but the names and designations he'd given them wouldn't actually help the Navy's exploration teams. If they would even manage to get the Stargate from the bottom of the Arctic Ocean because last he heard they were still looking.

"Oh," Sam murmured, suddenly recalling the first double sunrise she had seen. "Chulak."

"Excuse me?" Jack said around the donut he'd just stuffed into his mouth during his musings.

"The planet, it has two suns and they rise almost simultaneously," she explained. "I've been there a couple of times, it's Teal'c's home planet. Well, not really, he wasn't born there but he lived there with his family so we've visited it a few times. Unfortunately there weren't many times we could enjoy the sunrises what with enemies chasing us," she grinned, "but I've seen it a handful of times."

Jack nodded pensively, trying to recall the few things she and her friends had told them about the alien. "He was on your team, right?"

"Yes, he disappeared when Ba'al's failsafe device was activated and I have no idea where he is now. If he's even still alive."

"Wouldn't he be exactly where he was before you met?"

He saw her shake her head in his periphery and heard her deep sigh. "When we met Teal'c was the First Prime of Apophis-"

"That's like the leader of his army, right?"

"Yes but his father was in service of another Goa'uld System Lord, Cronus. He was killed for failing some impossible task and Teal'c and his mother were exiled. The Jaffa have this pretty big revenge thing going on so as soon as he was old enough he started training to become a warrior for Apophis, an enemy of Cronus."

Jack took the last sip of his coffee and set it back in a cup holder. "So what you're saying is that because this Ba'al guy changed the timeline it's possible Teal'c's father was never killed or that he's joined Cronus' army?"

Sam seemed to ponder that as she finally popped the last of her donut in her mouth. "Well, Teal'c was born in 1899 and he was still a kid when they were exiled so that wouldn't have changed."

"Wow, that's… old."

"Yeah," she replied slowly. "Ba'al said something about regretting not making Teal'c his First Prime before the execution so I wouldn't put it past him to use this opportunity to snatch Teal'c out from under Apophis. It would be the perfect revenge for him, using Teal'c to destroy Earth…"

"I see," Jack murmured after she had fallen silent. A quick glance in her direction told him she was deep in thought, half turned towards the window and he let out a sigh. Obviously he wasn't going to get anything else out of her now. Not that he really wanted to hear more about this galactic bad guy and her very old friend destroying Earth. He still found it hard to believe that the guy would go out of his way to get rid of Earth now and that it was taking him this long to do so. It had been almost seventy years, you would think he'd be ready by now or he'd never be!

* * *

><p><strong>1932 hours<br>I-94W  
>Minnesota<strong>

"Well, we're about an hour ahead of schedule," O'Neill muttered, glancing at the GPS.

Sam smiled, pleased with the progress. "I told you I'd get us there soon," she replied smugly.

"Speeding wasn't what I had in mind."

"Well, I would have made us a transporter if I had the time and equipment, Colonel," she teased, rolling her eyes. Their trip had been surprisingly uneventful and it seemed the tension between them had diminished as well, but it was possible that was due to the fact she'd slept through most of Illinois after lunching in Chicago and had only woken up in Madison, Wisconsin when O'Neill had stopped for gas and they'd switched places. Originally she'd offered to take the wheel from Chicago, but he'd insisted on splitting the time equally since he'd only driven about four hours and it was still eight and a half to go.

He threw her an amused look. "Really, you can do that?"

"No, unfortunately not," she admitted. Another unfortunate thing was that unlike her the Colonel hadn't given in to the lure of sleep and had kept talking about inane things, almost as if he was afraid the silence would bring that awkward, charged tension again.

"How about a 'beam me up, Scotty'?"

She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "I thought you didn't like science fiction?" When he just awkwardly cleared his throat, she smirked and turned back to the road. "Besides, I'd need an actual spaceship for that," she added, thinking about how her Dad and Daniel had joked about it once when Teal'c and Jack had been trapped in the X-301. God, she missed them.

"So…"

Letting out a sigh of exasperated she glared at him. "Colonel, I'm not playing I Spy with you again."

"I wasn't…" He said, huffing indignantly but quickly looked the other way.

"Right."

He grabbed a candy bar from between their seats and threw one in her lap too. "You've hardly eaten anything all day," he scolded her gently.

She picked it up and using her teeth, easily pulled the wrapper apart and took a bite. "Thanks."

"So Sam, have you ever been in Minnesota before? I mean, before we took this little road trip," he corrected himself.

"Once or twice," she muttered, immediately thinking about Jack's cabin. Well, their cabin now according to him but she would always associate it with him. She briefly wondered if this O'Neill also had a cabin and if he took his family up there often. Her Jack had told her Charlie used to love it out there, she imagined it would be pretty much the same to Tyler.

The Colonel nodded as he munched on his candy before swallowing it and washing it down with some water. "Ever go fishing?"

Sam's heart skipped a beat at the seemingly innocent question but when she turned to look at him there was something in his eyes that she couldn't quite identify. Suspicion, perhaps? She cleared her throat awkwardly under his inquiring stare and tried to ignore her burning cheeks as she came to the conclusion that he was probably aware of her earlier lie and that he'd already deduced from her behavior towards him that she and his counterpart were somehow involved. "Eh, I'm not really the person to sit still for hours waiting for the fish to bite," she finally replied, silently congratulating herself at her skilful answer.

"Too bad, there's this lake in northern Minnesota where the bass grow," he said in a casual tone as he opened his arms wide, "that big, well…"

"I believe you, Colonel," she said, pulling her head to the left to prevent him from knocking it with his outstretched arms. "Oh, look, we're almost there," she said quickly, eager to abandon this topic.

O'Neill glanced around as she took the exit to St Cloud. "Same motel as last time?"

"As long as it has two separate rooms _and_ a lock on the bathroom door," Sam replied with an icy glare, reminded of what had happened the last time they were in this town. It certainly wasn't something they needed to happen this time around considering the brewing tension between them.

"Oh, I'll make sure of it personally," he said, nodding his emphatically. "Or we'll stop by every motel until we find one with two vacancies," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.


	22. Day Fifty Three of a New Life

**Day 53  
>Parking Lot<br>Bismarck, North Dakota**

Jack sipped the last of his drink and threw the cup in the trashcan before quickly making his way over to the SUV where Sam, with two coffee cups to go, was already waiting. "You wanna drive?" He asked, seeing she was on the other side of the car.

"We've been on the road for six hours," she replied with a shrug, "well, without the lunch break."

"True," he admitted, glancing back at the fast-food restaurant they'd just eaten. "Okay, you can drive but no speeding."

Sam simply smirked and caught the keys he threw at her, appearing eager to be behind the wheel. Not surprising seeing how she'd been bored out of her mind after her little nap earlier. "Colonel?"

Blinking, he realized she was waiting for him to get in. Okay, she was _really_ eager. Jack couldn't really blame her, he too just wanted this road trip to be over with. They could both do with some time alone after being cooped up in the car for ten to twelve hours a day! "Oh right," he murmured, opening the door and slipping in. "Ow," he winced, cursing under his breath. The lump on his head had been uncomfortable against the headrest during the drive but he'd more or less forgotten about it during their lunch break.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, rubbing the back of his head. "Just my head," he added when she simply raised an elegant eyebrow.

Sam seemed puzzled and turned fully towards him. "What is wrong with your head?"

"Oh, I bumped it. In the elevator," Jack elaborated, grinning softly when she flushed at the reminder. "Don't worry, it's just a big lump. I just have to be careful with the headrest," he muttered as he adjusted the thing to his height.

"Are you sure? How hard did you hit it?"

"Dunno," he shrugged. "Pretty hard."

She let out an exasperated sigh and stared at him. "Why didn't you say something before? For all we know you have a concussion!"

"Nah," he made a dismissive wave with his hand. "I'm fine, it just throbs a bit. People don't get concussions from bumping their heads in an elevator."

"Actually, I got one like that," she mumbled absentmindedly.

Jack smirked at that, wondering how that could possibly happen. Of course she did have a pretty big brain, so maybe it concussed easier? "A bit clumsy, are we?"

"Have you taken anything for it?" She asked, ignoring his remark. When he just looked at her she rolled her eyes. "Painkillers or maybe just pressed a cold compress against it?"

"For a bump?" He huffed in derision.

Sam gave him her patented stare and unbuckled her seatbelt again. "Well, you did say you hadn't slept well before we left St Cloud and you seem a bit tired. Let me take a look at it."

"Why? I'm fine," Jack argued, even though his head had been throbbing for the past few hours and he had woken up several times this night.

"If you want I can stop by a hospital," she countered. "I really don't want you passing out at me."

"Sam, I'm fine and I don't need to go to a hospital."

She nodded slowly and put the two coffee cups that were still on the center console in their cup holders. "Then let me take a look at it. I have medical field training," she added.

Jack didn't really think she was serious about taking him to a hospital but his head was already throbbing and he wasn't looking forward to her nagging him the remaining six hours, so he gave in and leaned forward. "Fine, do your thing."

Sam sighed at his obvious reluctance but shifted on her seat and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Can you move a bit closer?"

He did as she asked and then she reached out, her hands slowly moving up the nape of his neck into his hair. That actually felt nice, he thought as her fingers ruffled through his hair. "To the right," he instructed.

"It's not a massage, Colonel," she muttered dryly.

Jack smirked and tried to sneak a peek at her from the corner of his eye as she was half bent over him and suddenly realized how close she was. "Ow," he yelped when her fingers came in contact with the lump.

"Stop glaring at me."

"I wasn't…" he trailed off when she canted her head and sent him a look as if daring him to finish his sentence. "Okay, just be careful, okay? No need to give me a bump atop the lump," he whined softly.

Sam snorted and scooted to the edge of her seat to move closer to him so she could examine the bump better, firing off a few standard questions which he reluctantly answered.

Jack sucked in a sharp breath when she leaned into him as she probed the area surrounding the obvious lump, one warm hand resting on his left shoulder and her breasts pressing against his arm. Trying to focus on something else he looked up again, only to see the elegant curve of her neck and trace it with his eyes until his gaze landed on her freckle-dotted shoulder. "What's the verdict, Doc?" he shuddered as her hands slid out of his hair and down his neck before she sat back in her chair.

"You're fine," she replied summarily.

"What, that's it?" He questioned.

Sam looked at him strangely as she buckled her seatbelt and started the car. "It's just a bump, Colonel."

"That's what I said! Some medic you are…"

"Don't worry, you'll live," she said in a placating tone. "You'd think after all your whining you'd be glad."

Realizing she was right, Jack cautiously sat back and put on his sunglasses. "Fine, let's go." As if to reassure himself he ran a hand through his hair and gently probed the bump himself. Of course he was fine, hadn't he told her that himself? Still, it did throb a bit and it was kind of big. More a lump than a bump, he thought to himself. It wasn't that he needed medical attention or anything like that, he was just surprised she was so curt. Especially for someone with medical training! Sara would always fuss over him or Tyler when one of them was injured, even if it was just a scrape. Of course it wasn't fair of him to compare the two women like that, his relationship with Sam was completely different than that to his wife. If anything, he should have probably expected Sam to act like this, he belatedly realized. After all, she was used to dangerous situations and considering her line of work she probably saw a hell of a lot more in the field that needed urgent medical attention. He had just bumped his head. In an elevator.

Jack sighed, feeling strangely upset even though he hadn't even wanted her to look at his injury. Besides, he hated it when people fussed over him. His eyes slid over to Sam and seeing her completely focused on the road, he tried to think of something to do to entertain himself. His thoughts turned back to yesterday and he wondered if his counterpart had a cabin in Minnesota. He was still suspicious about the specifics of Sam's relationship with the other him because of how she had almost kissed him but when he'd mentioned the cabin he hadn't been able to read her, her features had been schooled perfectly. Of course that was presuming his counterpart _had_ the cabin in Minnesota; it was possible he'd sold it before he even met Sam or maybe his grandfather had never built it to begin with because of those changes in the timeline Sam had mentioned… or maybe she had been up to the cabin with her team and they were all friends. Just because he himself only took his family up there didn't mean the other him was the same, especially considering that guy had lost his son and had subsequently divorced Sara…

"Colonel?"

"Hm?" He asked, pulled from his thoughts.

"Maybe you should try and get some sleep. You look like you can use it," Sam replied.

His eyebrows rose at the comment even though he was pretty tired. "Geez, thanks. Wake me up when we get to Montana, okay?"

* * *

><p><strong>2014 hours<br>I-90W  
>Montana<strong>

Sam's stomach was already rumbling and she was glad they were less than twenty minutes away from Billings. Normally she didn't have a problem with irregular eating problems but then she usually had some interesting doohickey or, lately on Atlantis, important paperwork to keep her occupied. This civilian life really wasn't for her, she thought to herself.

She glanced back at the Colonel, who was still snoozing. She'd woken him up when they'd entered Montana but it seemed he really was tired and had gone back to a light sleep. Or maybe he was just out of conversation topics and this was his way of avoiding having to talk to her, or deal with awkward silences. It was understandable and right now she really didn't have a lot to talk about either.

As a matter of fact, she was afraid she might have already said too much when she'd been talking about Janet and Cassie. In the early days of incarceration here she'd decided to keep every single detail about her personal life to herself because it could easily be used against her. Up until a few days ago she had more or less succeeded in that. But the more time she spent with this Colonel O'Neill the easier it was to forget he wasn't her Jack and that she shouldn't trust him. If there was anything she knew it was that this man might not be loyal to the NID – she couldn't imagine any Jack O'Neill being loyal to them – but he most certainly was loyal to his son. She couldn't blame him, not after seeing how devastated her Jack had been over losing Charlie.

There was no doubt in her mind that O'Neill could easily use something against her if he even had an inkling of her plan and thought she threatened his son's existence. Again, it was something she could understand, even a quality she could admire as long as it wasn't directed against her. She might not have children of her own but she cared a great deal about Cassandra Fraiser and if she was in the Colonel's shoes and it was Cassie's life at stake… well, she'd do whatever she had to. In a way that was exactly the situation, Sam thought grimly. Here she was in this alternate timeline without her loved ones and she really was willing to risk it all to change it back.

Of course Ba'al, the consequences his actions had for the universe and the safety of the universe played a part in that too but she wasn't going to lie to herself and deny that her Jack, Cassie and her friends weren't the main reason. If there was no chance to be reunited with them she wasn't sure if she would be this hell-bent on restoring the timeline. Perhaps she would even be able to settle in this new life, like Cam apparently had. But as long as there was a chance, no matter how small that she could undo all this and get her Jack and Cassie back then she would do whatever was necessary. She would deal with the consequences of her own actions once everything was done.

Still, the longer Sam was here the more drawn to Colonel O'Neill she felt. It was easy to tell herself it wasn't just because he was basically Jack, just with different life experiences but in the end she was pretty sure that was exactly the reason. But it didn't help that she didn't have her friends around, or just Daniel to talk to. Soon, she kept telling herself, soon they would meet up if everything went according to plan. However, until then she had no one she could talk to but O'Neill. Obviously he, his superiors or the NID had expected that and she wouldn't be surprised if there were mind tricks involved. Like giving her a fake identity and getting the only man that's remotely close to her the assignment to keep a close eye on her, have him extract the necessary information from her.

Sam snorted to herself, thinking it would probably be easier to just spill all the secrets her mind had. It would be like a sensory overload and the Navy, Air Force and NID wouldn't know where to begin. They'd probably get stuck trying to sift through it all but she couldn't risk everything on that assumption. It was better to remain quiet and not tell them a thing. Yet at the same time it was difficult to resist the urge to talk about everything that was important in her life. The last ten years of her life had revolved around the SGC and the Stargate and she'd witnessed and done so many amazing things, it was almost a crime to keep it to herself. So every now and then she'd give O'Neill some inconsequential information, to get him to trust her more and to make herself feel better. It was a sort of selfishness she wasn't used to from herself but right now she had bigger things to worry about than whether or not she was being selfish in her desires.

From the beginning she'd told herself that Jack and Cassie were off-limits though and yet she'd told Colonel O'Neill about Cassandra. She had tried to be vague and not show him just how important the young woman was to her because if they knew she was like a daughter to her… well, Sam wasn't sure they would have let her roam the streets if they knew she had Jack and Cassie to return to. Still, she didn't think O'Neill had noticed and even if he suspected anything about the bond she had with Cassie her instincts told her he wouldn't share it with his superiors. After all, he was in this for Tyler and she doubted he had agreed to this assignment eagerly, not if her suspicion about its true nature was correct seeing how he was still married to Sara here. It would be just like the NID to use his son to convince him – they had threatened General Hammond's granddaughters in her timeline after all – and if this O'Neill was anything like the man she loved then he wouldn't use a child as a pawn, not unless he thought she was threatening Tyler.

So, she would just have to be very careful and not let him get the slightest hint about her plan…

"Sam?"

She startled at the Colonel's voice, not having realized he was awake and glanced in his direction. "Yeah?"

"What's this Montana Fair thing?"

"I have no idea," Sam murmured. If she were honest, she hadn't even noticed the signs near the roads as she was busy contemplating. "It sure is busy around here…"

* * *

><p><strong>2230 hours<br>Motel  
>Billings, Montana<strong>

"I can't believe this is the only room," Jack whined as he dropped his bag near the closet.

Sam did the same on the opposite side of the room and plopped down on a bed. "Well, at least it has two beds."

"True," he conceded, eyeing the door to the bathroom. "Just… lock the bathroom door if you're going to use it, okay?"

She flushed a bright red and glared at him. "Trust me, I will. You might want to try the concept of knocking too."

Jack smirked and went over to the bathroom to check it. "Looks clean enough," he muttered.

"See, we're lucky, Colonel. At least we still managed to get a room with two beds _and_ a reasonably clean shower."

He nodded slowly and gestured at the window. "Do you want the curtains closed?"

Sam reached out, making a face when dust clouds appeared as she tried to move the fabric. "I don't think anyone has ever closed these," she mumbled tiredly.

"Well, it's not like there's traffic on that side," Jack replied with a shrug. There also wouldn't be anything interesting to steal or see in the room, so he was fine with leaving the curtains open. "I'm just going to brush my teeth and then hit the sack," he announced, moving back to his bag to get his toothbrush. "Oh and Sam? If you decide to go out running again at the crack of dawn like the last time we were here, please leave me a note and let me sleep. I'm beat."

"Don't worry, I'm not planning on it," she replied with a small blush.

* * *

><p><strong>Day 54<br>Motel  
>Billings, Montana<strong>

Sam had never been a deep sleeper and knowing she had to spend the night in a crappy motel room with Colonel O'Neill sleeping in a bed not even three feet away from hers, her body and mind had automatically gone into mission mode, ready to wake up at the slightest sound. It had become a habit after the first few missions at the SGC and allowed her to be alert seconds from waking, ready to defend herself and her team against enemy attack. She had been determined to hone her warrior skills as best she could after being sold like cattle to some Mongolian warlord and never to be caught unawares again, even while sleeping. In her position she couldn't afford to let anyone get the drop on her and luckily for her Jack and Teal'c had instinctively understood this and helped her develop her instincts and a sense of awareness that eventually rivaled their own. Unfortunately tonight it also meant she woke up every time O'Neill was grunting, tossing and turning or struggling against unseen demons.

Of course she knew how haunting nightmares could be, especially in their line of work and she wouldn't wish them on anyone but her enemies. Still, she would have liked to actually get some rest instead of waking up at least once an hour because of his restlessness. Rolling over, she watched him in the semidarkness as he was trashing in bed and felt a pang of sympathy at his obvious distress. His limbs were tangled in the sheets again and his pillows had been discarded and were probably lying on the floor next to the one she'd thrown his way about an hour ago, hoping to knock him out of it when he still wasn't out of it after almost fifteen minutes without coming into physical contact with him – it had worked, but now she only had one pillow left and it was comfortably underneath her head.

It was getting closer to sunrise and she knew REM sleep periods became longer and the accompanying dreams more intense in the second half of the night, so Sam continued to watch him patiently. Occasionally she'd glance at her watch but as time ticked by his terror seemed to increase. His struggle with the covers became even wilder, his limbs flailing and restrained by the sheet his mutterings and grunts became louder until she couldn't stand it anymore. "Colonel!" She called in a loud whisper. "Colonel, wake up!"

Sitting up Sam could see his shape even better and was able to distinguish his facial features and the beginning of a sheen of sweat on his face with the early light of nautical dawn falling in through the window, unobscured by curtains. "Colonel O'Neill," she tried again, scooting over to the side of the bed. The sound of her voice only seemed to agitate him even further so she slipped her leg out from under the covers and kicked at his bed, hoping to jar him awake. She, Daniel and Teal'c had enough experience with Jack to know better than to just shake him awake so she poked at the mattress with her foot.

"Colonel!" She hissed, louder now. "Oh for crying out loud," she muttered, finally getting out of bed and taking a step closer. "Colonel O'Neill, wake up!" Sam jumped back when suddenly one of his arms untangled from the sheets and lunged in her direction, nearly hitting her. Damn but the man had good aim, even when he was asleep! The last few years she had gotten more intimate knowledge about her Jack's sleeping habits and nightmares and she knew what to expect when he was having one of these night terrors. Normally it was a tossup between Iraq and Ba'al when he was like this but obviously this O'Neill didn't have the latter experience so it had to be from Iraq. Evading his swinging arm she placed a hand on his chest, trying to rouse him calmly instead of grabbing or holding one of his limbs down because that would only make him more aggressive.

"Come on, Colonel, wake up," Sam said, jostling his frame. It tore at her heart to see the face of the man she loved crumpled with pain and feel the clamminess of his shirt and pounding heart underneath her hand. "Colonel," she pushed harder, leaning a bit more of her weight on him and the mattress with her other hand as she evaded another blow. It wasn't working and now he was gasping for air, one hand clawing at his neck and shirt while the other seemed to strike randomly in the hopes of hitting his invisible assailant. Instinctively she batted his hand away from his neck before he would hurt himself and rested her knee on the bed, shaking him by the shirt with her free hand. "Jack," she whispered, the name rolling off her tongue with surprising ease, hoping it would get through to him.

Suddenly he hit her shoulder though, making her lose her balance and she nearly toppled over his restless legs. "Jack! Wake up now!" She yelled, warding off his next punch with her arm. Before Sam realized what was happening, his other hand yanked her down by her top and he rolled them over. The unexpected move forced the air out of her lungs and she gasped, suddenly wondering why the hell she'd felt it necessary to try and save this O'Neill some discomfort by waking him as his dark eyes stared at her unseeingly.

Sam managed to block the next hit aiming for her face with her left wrist and using the moment to her advantage, she pushed up with her right shoulder and grabbed his side to flip them. He grunted something incomprehensible as she got atop, her feet now also tangled in the sheets but she hadn't expected his continued hold on her tank top and was unable to counter his following move as he pulled on it. All of a sudden the world turned upside down and they fell off the bed, onto the hard floor with her body breaking their fall.

"Umph!" The breath left her body on impact as his heavy frame crushed her to the dirty carpet and he shifted himself over her in a move she recognized. He had her legs immobilized, pinning her hands above her head with one hand on her wrists and leaning his weight on it, the other moving to her neck. She had just enough time to fill her lungs with air before she felt his calloused fingertips against her throat. "Jack, don't!" She gasped as he wrapped a hand around her neck but his brown eyes were devoid of any recognition or even simple awareness of what he was doing as he loomed over her. Instead of panicking Sam forced her body to relax, knowing it was the opposite of what he would expect just as his fingers tightened their grip and dug into her skin.

The Colonel seemed thrown when she stopped struggling, his lower body suddenly pressing her down into the floor when her taut frame unexpectedly went slack making him lose his balance and fall forward on top of her. Sam couldn't help but gasp as it caused more of his weight to lean on the hand around her neck but forced herself not to tense up otherwise as O'Neill suddenly pushed himself back up with his other hand. He blinked rapidly as if he just woke up. "Sam?"

"Colonel," she uttered, grateful for his excellent timing and his hand releasing its hold on her throat. Something like this had only happened a handful of times with her Jack so she had known how to react, but for a minute she feared maybe she had misjudged the situation and that she'd done something unbelievably stupid by trusting him not to hurt her – after all, this Jack O'Neill didn't know her or her voice as well as her Jack did. If it had been necessary she probably could have fought him off and caught him unawares with another move this man wouldn't see coming but Sam was smart enough to know how close it had been.

"Oh God," O'Neill muttered, staring down at her in horror.

She managed a feeble smile as she saw the realization wash over him. "Come on now, my bed head isn't that bad, is it?"

"That's not funny," he growled, with a scowl on his face. "Oh god," he repeated. "What the hell happened?"

"You, eh, had a bad dream," Sam replied, thinking how ridiculous that sounded as she said it aloud.

* * *

><p>Jack looked down at her pale face and big blue eyes in the dim light, wondering what had happened for the two of them to end up on the floor with him still half asleep. He didn't need her to tell him he'd been having a bad dream with the images still vivid in his mind. Cromwell, his former friend and fellow soldier, leaving him behind in Iraq had left him with enough nightmare material for the rest of his natural life atop of memories of some of the damn distasteful things he'd done for his country that occasionally haunted him in the darkness of night. Tonight he'd been back in that Iraqi prison, being tortured for information and guards tauntingly calling out his name, but just when the burly interrogator was strangling him he'd managed to reach out and grab one of the guards by the arm. In the ensuing chaos the others had released his limbs and suddenly he landed a hit on the man, even managed to tackle him to the ground.<p>

It wasn't until his fingers were wrapped around a throat and the body beneath him suddenly going limp that he realized something was wrong. He had hardly squeezed and yet the struggling stopped and he'd nearly toppled over in surprise. All of a sudden he seemed to come out of his daze – or nightmare as he now knew – and his surroundings had registered with him; he was in the crappy motel room, not a smelly or dank interrogation room and the feminine body beneath him definitely didn't belong to an Iraqi guard. Jack shuddered in realization at the feeling of Sam's toned yet curvy body under his just lying there completely defenseless and he briefly wondered why she hadn't done anything. Surely someone who claimed to fight evil aliens on a daily basis could give him a run for his money?

Seeing sympathy appear in her eyes he quickly averted his gaze, silently chastising himself for letting his emotions show on his face; the woman had already proven several times that she could read him like a book, he didn't need to give her an even closer look into the depths of his mind and soul. A shiver ran down his spine as he stared at her golden locks resting on the dark carpet, making him aware of the cool temperature, his sweaty clothes and the damp sheet still tangled around one leg. Jack knew he had to pull himself together and get away from her because he couldn't afford for her to realize how vulnerable he was after waking from a nightmare, so he tried to calm his pounding heart and get his breathing under control as he lowered his head. Resting it on her shoulder with his eyes closed he became aware of the faint scent of her skin, still warm from the sleep he'd no doubt woken her up from when trashing in his bed.

"Colonel?"

Jack was still panting slightly and noticed the quick rise and fall of her chest as he looked up at her face. Her feeble attempt at a smile had long disappeared and now she was biting her lip in indecision. "I'm sorry, Sam," he apologized. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," her answer was too quick and he narrowed his eyes at her. "It's just… do you mind?" She gently tugged at the hold he still had on her wrists, pinned above her head, and experimentally squirmed beneath him.

He suddenly realized he was practically stretched out over her, their bodies touching from chests to feet and how uncomfortable she had to be with him looming over her, immobilizing her after nearly strangling her in his sleep. Still, she showed no signs of fear and seemed rather resigned to just lie there for the moment, although she hissed softly and even let out something sounding suspiciously like a low moan he chose to ignore when he moved to sit.

More morning light from the window fell over her now and he could see a slight blush on her face as he released her wrists and took a good look at her. For obvious reasons she was still dressed in her pajamas but her gray tank top had ridden up her stomach a bit during their struggle, just like his shirt was twisted around his torso, and her hair was slightly wild from sleep and fanned over the carpet. He scrubbed a hand over his face to stop himself from staring at her heaving chest at the same time she rubbed at the marks he'd left on her neck. "What's that? Let me see!" He demanded, as he caught sight of the movement and pulled her hand away.

"It's nothing, I'm fine," Sam replied defensively, as if he wasn't the cause for the marks on her skin.

"No, you're not," Jack argued as he examined the red spots in the shape of his palm and fingers. "God Sam, I could have killed you! What the hell were you thinking?!"

She looked at him as if he was three fries short of a happy meal, which made sense considering she'd only been trying to help him and hadn't asked to be strangled. "I always like to get some hand-to-hand combat in first thing in the morning, Colonel," she replied sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and was about to say something when she continued. "Trust me, if I could have ignored your trashing I would have but after being woken up for the fifth time this night, I had enough. Obviously I should have known better," she added with a hint of accusation.

He groaned, mentally slapping himself for berating her when he was the one who'd hurt her. He knew what he was capable of and usually he could keep it under control but lately the nightmares seemed to be more frequent than usual and out of control. After returning from Iraq it had been pretty much the same only then it had been more violent and traumatic and when he was finally released from the hospital after a few months and got to go home, it had been difficult to sleep through the night. Sara had objected to him sleeping in the guestroom at the time but he didn't trust himself and when he returned to the master bedroom he _had_ hurt her. Seeing his patient and caring wife with a black eye had been enough motivation for him to try and get a handle on it. These days he hardly struck out unless the dream was really bad and he usually managed to wake himself from it without hurting or even disturbing Sara.

Now though, he'd done worse than just striking out and his fingers had actually been wrapped around Sam's delicate throat! God, he really could have killed her if hadn't woken up at the right time and she wasn't even blaming him or upset! Reaching out he gently caressed the marred skin, silently wondering why she was even letting him and angry about her earlier lighthearted response. "I'm so sorry for hurting you," he apologized again when she visibly swallowed under his fingers. "You shouldn't have come near me but I should have warned you I could become violent. Just, promise me, that next time you won't do something so stupid and just yell at me or throw something in my direction. That usually helps, just don't get close or physical."

"There's going to be a next time?" Sam retorted with a cheeky smile, her body shaking slightly with silent laughter. "I think you're being a bit presumptuous here, Colonel."

"Oh for crying out loud, that's not what I meant," he huffed, sitting back on his heels. It wasn't until he ran his hands through his hair and registered the warmth of her skin against his legs that he realized he was practically straddling her hips and that he should probably get up.

The laughter disappeared from her face and her eyes turned serious. "Don't worry; I'm not planning on sharing a motel room with you again any time soon."

Jack belatedly realized this was their last night on the road if they could manage the last nine hundred miles or so in one go after sunrise and nodded slowly. "Just… be careful if-"

"I know," she replied earnestly. "I think my extra pillow is still around here somewhere."

"Oh," he murmured after spotting it on the floor. Obviously she'd already tried everything short of shaking him and when she had gotten up, he'd most likely grabbed her as soon as his hand came into contact with her. Even though he was embarrassed about her apparently being aware of this already, he was also curious as to how she'd gotten to know these methods… Of course he'd caught her in a nightmare once but she had simply seemed tormented and not aggressive like he usually became so he doubted it was from her own experience.

Sam colored a bit when he narrowed his eyes at her and shrugged awkwardly. "I knew what to expect."

"How would you know?"

"Eh," she stammered slightly before something, perhaps determination, flashed in her eyes. "I've been going on overnight missions for seven years with, eh-"

"The other me?" He supplied helpfully, which caused her flush to deepen.

"Yes and we were all aware of how volatile he could be when asleep," she added.

"You're aware of all your teammates' sleeping habits?" He questioned, finding that hard to believe. Even he didn't know everything about the people he'd worked with in the field for years, or at least not to the same extent as she obviously did. When she simply nodded again he decided to leave it be for now and filed it away under the rest of his suspicions. "In that case you really should have known better," he couldn't help but add.

Instead of replying Sam squirmed under him, catching him off guard but before he could make a move, she shifted her leg and used her hip to flip them over with her hands pressing against his chest. "I told you I'm fine," she said with a triumphant grin, looming over him.

Jack suddenly became aware of not only his hands that had automatically gripped her top at the move but also the attractive picture she made straddling him and how the soft skin of her thighs pressing against his sides where his own shirt had twisted around his torso was a sharp contrast against the rough carpet scraping against his skin. Sam was breathing heavier than usual and because of her usual ramrod straight posture – as if she was sitting at attention – her breasts were thrust forward almost proudly. He couldn't help but notice her nipples straining against the gray fabric bunched in his fists on her back. Tearing his gaze away he locked onto her blue eyes, their pupils dilated and saw the heat in them.

He was unsure of what to do next, feeling his body already responding to her and quickly released the hold he had on her top, making sure to smooth it down her hips to cover up temptation. His hands moved of their own accord though, slipping lower to rest on the swell of her ass and he could feel her muscles tense at the touch. The urge to grab her hips and push her a few inches lower on his body or slide his fingers around her six was almost irresistible and he barely refrained from doing so until he suddenly spotted the rapidly forming bruise on her shoulder. All thoughts about perhaps enjoying this a bit too much were replaced with concern when he realized he was the one responsible for the contusion.

"What?" Sam murmured, before following his line of sight. She must have realized what he was looking at because she brought her hand up self-consciously to cover it. "It's nothing."

"That's not 'nothing'," he growled. Sitting up without warning he nearly knocked her over but quickly slid an arm behind her back to steady her. Guilt and shame at his actions filled him and he hesitantly reached out to her shoulder with his free hand. "Let me see," he batted her hand away and gently probed the bruise. It looked dark and angry and, knowing his own strength, he was well aware that it was anything but nothing. He'd hit her hard, lesser soldiers than her had yelped at one of those punches.

She pulled back but his arm behind her restrained her so she tried to shrug his hand off. "You said it yourself; I should have known better, it's my own damn fault for not ducking."

"It's my fault, not yours." Jack looked her in the eye for a moment, her face only inches away from his. Their loud breathing being the only sound in the room added to the intimacy of the moment and it drew his attention to her half parted lips, before shaking himself. She was gazing at him intently and he narrowed his eyes, trying to read her. Failing miserably, he turned his attention back to the bruise and only just caught himself when he wanted to lean in and kiss it better, like he would have done with Sara. Shocked at his own thoughts and realizing that for all intents and purposes Sam was sitting in his lap, he tried to summon some professionalism. "Does it hurt?"

"Only when you probe it like that," she replied dryly, but hoarsely.

He tightened his grip on her automatically at the tone of her voice but that made her squirm in response, only making both of them even more aware of their precarious position. "Maybe we should, eh…"

Sam cleared her throat awkwardly and looked away, nodding slowly. "Yeah," she muttered, her hands sliding to his shoulders to push herself up on her feet. For a moment it looked like she wanted to give him a hand to pull him up, but then she turned around and walked over to her bag. "You should probably take a shower."

"Um, yeah," he agreed awkwardly, smoothing his shirt down as he stood. He was glad her back was towards and tried to straighten his boxers somewhat before moving towards the bathroom door. "We might as well hit the road as soon as possible."

"I'll just, eh, get dressed while you shower," she replied, rubbing the back of her neck. "I'll go across the street to get us some breakfast and then we can leave. I feel pretty rested so I might as well drive the first half and then you can try and get some shuteye in the car."

Jack nodded and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and making sure to lock it. He doubted he would be able to sleep with her only a feet away, not when he was already this wired and aware of her, but she didn't need to know that.

* * *

><p><strong>2106 hours<br>I-5S  
>Washington<strong>

Jack was tired and didn't even bother to suppress a yawn, knowing Sam was still asleep next to him and that they were almost home. Well, not really home but it wouldn't be long now until he could drop her off at her place in Rainier and then he would just have to make sure to stay awake long enough to get to McChord so he could crash in his base quarters there. Due to his temporary assignment there and his rank he had relatively nice quarters there but right now he was pretty sure he could sleep anywhere, especially after the crappy night – and strange wakeup call – he'd had.

They had left Billings around sunrise after finishing off the breakfast Sam had gotten them and hadn't stopped until they'd reached Missoula to have lunch. Unsurprisingly Sam had insisted on driving a few more hours, both of them well aware of the long ride they still had to go and she seemed determined to divide the time equally between them. He didn't have a problem with that and had even managed a two-hour nap and had woken up feeling rather refreshed. After convincing her he was wide awake and ready to take over the wheel they'd stopped in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho where they'd used the bathroom and gotten themselves a coffee before hitting the road again. They had been a bit ahead of schedule at that time already, thanks to Sam's need for speed and he'd quickly found himself a little over the speed limit as well as they drove down the interstate.

He had more than one reason to step on it and while he wouldn't mind getting a ticket – the car was registered to the NID after all and he would love to see the look on Maybourne's face – Jack had made sure to be careful since he not only wanted to be back on base and away from Sam right now, he also wanted to get there safely. It wouldn't do either of them any good if they'd get in an accident, after all. Not to mention it would kind of defeat the purpose because they would probably both end up in the same hospital, sharing a room yet again! He wasn't ready for that yet, not after what had happened this morning or the tensed silence from the last fourteen hours in the car. His nap had been a reprieve and luckily for him she had followed his example and had fallen asleep about an hour and a half after changing seats.

Sam hadn't even woken up when Jack had detoured Ephrata to pick her up some groceries in Walmart. One of the few good things about the NID's detailed surveillance reports was that he basically knew most of the stuff she bought during her trips to the grocery store, down to the specific brands. He'd gotten her some perishables and other stuff she might need after being away from home for two weeks, the rest she could get on her own. After all, he didn't want to arouse her suspicions by buying exactly everything she needed because that might alert her to the fact the NID was keeping close tabs on her. If she didn't already suspect as much, he thought to himself. During their road trips and stay in Atlantic City he'd gotten to know her better and he wouldn't be surprised if she had either already found out about some of the surveillance or simply expected it despite not having any proof. She was probably too smart to hope that would go right past her.

As he glanced at his sleeping passenger his eye fell on the bruise on her shoulder, half covered by the jacket Sam had taken off to use as a blanket and was now snuggled into. During lunch he'd already seen the large bruise on her wrist too, a clear sign of another hit from him she'd blocked so he hadn't asked her about it, knowing she would just shrug it off. It still bothered him though.

Jack wasn't stupid and he knew that while there wasn't a precise trigger for his nightmares, there certainly were factors in his life contributing to the frequency of those dreams occurring. Often it was just simple stress from an intense mission, which didn't express it itself until he got home and everything went back to normal with the exception of the nightmares that would accompany him a night or two. Sometimes he could feel them lurking in the recesses of his mind, waiting for him to lower his guard so they could come out and taunt him and those nights he would usually sleep in the guestroom. It wasn't ideal, certainly not if it was the first night and he hadn't been home in weeks but he'd rather take the precaution than risk hurting Sara. She had never said as much but he knew she was terrified of that dark side of his and he couldn't blame her, because he couldn't control it completely when he was asleep – not for lack of trying though.

This however wasn't a life or death situation, or even an intense training mission under harsh circumstances. These past two weeks he'd had far more nightmares than usual; he doubted he could function properly if they happened this frequent. So obviously there was something else at play here. There was definitely tension between him and Sam but as far as he could remember that sort of tension usually led to more… pleasant dreams, not the kind where dark memories from dank prison cells and crude torture played a role. Of course a lack of sleep could lower his defenses as well and seeing how the nightmares and the long days on the road had affected his usual sleeping pattern there was a good chance he'd somehow gotten stuck in some vicious circle, where the lack of sleep from the nightmares caused even more.

His experiences in Iraq had obviously left invisible scars and while claustrophobia wasn't really one of them, Jack still preferred wide-open spaces and when he thought about it he realized it was possible that being cooped up in a car for over twelve hours a day had contributed to his sleep problems as well. Not to mention his need to be in control, something that had been taken from him as a POW and Sam certainly seemed to have a knack for throwing him for a loop and he never knew quite what to expect when it came to her. Despite his assignment and her basically being his charge, he most certainly wasn't in control when it came to her. On top of all that she and the attraction he felt towards her were messing with his mind, especially in combination with his assignment, his family and the knowledge that if he failed and Sam turned out to have something up her sleeve to fix the timeline his son would be paying the price…

"Crap," Jack muttered darkly, scowling at the road in front of him. No wonder his nights had been plagued with nightmares. Hopefully he could get a good night of sleep tonight, after dropping Sam off at home. Perhaps he should take some leave and visit his own home as well. Maybe seeing Tyler and Sara would knock some sense back into him. Hopefully spending more time apart from Sam and not having to watch her every move would help clear his mind and he wouldn't end up doing something stupid as to kiss her.

Then again, considering her own behavior towards him he might not be safe from her at all. She hadn't exactly gone out of her way to avoid him or make him feel more comfortable with her. No, he was pretty sure she'd actually been flirting with him a few times back in Atlantic City. There had definitely been signs she was just as attracted to him as he was to her, but unlike him she seemed to be a lot more open to it. Probably because she wasn't married with a kid, he thought to himself. Not that he'd shown much resistance to some of her advances, Jack thought, feeling ashamed for his lack of self-control.

The problem was that Sam had the ability to throw him off balance, something she was probably aware of and not afraid to use it at times. Again it made him wonder if her relationship with the other him had been as platonic as she had claimed. From what he'd seen of her so far she seemed to be a by-the-book kind of officer and he found it hard to believe this was how she would act towards her commanding officer – or his counterpart. Granted, she wasn't the guy's second in command anymore but he'd been her CO for what, eight years? That had to be pretty hard to overcome. Not to mention feelings like that, even if it was just pure attraction, didn't come out of the blue or after eight years. It would be pretty hard to work closely with someone if the attraction was that strong, especially in the military.

If Jack found her attractive then surely his counterpart – who hadn't been married – would feel the same way? Or was he oversimplifying things and it didn't work like that? He couldn't imagine not giving in to the attraction if he and Sam were both single and they had met under different circumstances, which wouldn't make him so damn suspicious of her. Obviously that wouldn't be allowed in the military, not when they would be in the same chain of command so how come she and his counterpart had managed to work together for so long without either one of them being reassigned if the attraction was similar? Hell, it was probably even stronger if they trusted each other with their lives, plus life and death situations tended to bring people closer.

On the other hand if Sam was merely playing him then she had missed her calling and would be an excellent actress. It might be a waste of her brain though, on second thought. Still, it was hard to believe she was somehow faking it when it came to physical responses, like her racing pulse, dilated pupils, shortness of breath and the goose bumps that had appeared on her skin when he touched her. What did it all mean? Confused, Jack decided to stop thinking about it until he had a good night's sleep or two. Besides, they were almost in Rainier, he thought with a tired smile. Finally!

The last ten miles flew by and before he knew it he was driving down her street and turning into her driveway. Jack gently shook Sam awake, careful not to touch the bruise on her shoulder as he did so. "Sam, you're home. C'mon." When she simply blinked he undid his seatbelt, opened the door and slipped out of the car. There was a cold breeze and he heard a soft moan of protest coming from inside the SUV as he left his door open and went to get the groceries he'd gotten her from the trunk. "Sam!"

"Colonel?" She questioned sleepily as she came around the car. "Where's my bag and what are those?"

He gestured at the backseat where her two bags were lying and picked up the smaller ones from Walmart. "I got you some groceries while you were asleep. I figured you'd need to eat something tomorrow and I wasn't sure when you were planning on a trip to the store, so…"

"Okay, thanks." Sam nodded slowly, still looking half asleep and slipped her gym bag over her shoulder and carried the larger one in her hands as she walked up to the house.

Jack followed her inside and placed the groceries on the kitchen island as she headed towards the utility room, no doubt to throw her clothes in the laundry. He started putting the perishables away, pleased to see they'd survived the hours in the SUV without refrigerating them and smiled at a tired-looking Sam when she plopped down on a barstool. "You look ready to collapse."

"Just tired, I'll be fine."

"Go get some rest," he insisted, waving at the corridor leading to her bedroom. "I'll just put all this away and leave."

She surprised him by gnawing her lip, a clear sign of indecision, because he'd expected her to dismiss his offer and insist on kicking him out. Obviously she was more tired than he'd thought. "I don't know… I'd still have to lock up."

"You lock up the doors and go to bed, I'll leave via the garage door," Jack suggested.

"Okay," she finally relented, barely suppressing a yawn. "Thank you, Colonel."

"Think nothing of it," he replied with a small grin. "I'll see you later. Good night, Sam," he added as she headed into the direction of her bedroom. Ignoring the fact that she was now getting dressed for bed or that she had two perfectly fine guestrooms he could crash in, Jack put the last few things in the fridge. It would be a bad idea to stay – not that she'd even offered – especially seeing how he'd been so intent on getting here so they could both have some space. It seemed odd that he suddenly felt reluctant to leave.

Rolling his eyes at himself, he picked up the box of Frootees he'd gotten her and checked the cabinets to see where she usually kept her breakfast cereal. He was surprised to find an unopened box in one of them considering how she bought at least one every week, but shrugged it off and went down the same corridor as Sam had minutes ago. There were no sounds coming from her bedroom as he passed the door and he figured she'd probably fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. Feeling a sudden longing for his own pillow he quickly went to the pantry to store the box of sugary cereal before leaving. Jack was stunned when he opened the door and saw an entire shelf full of old, unopened boxes of Frootees. The dates suggested they'd been bought about a week apart from each other and were just… sitting there.

Now that he thought about it, he'd never actually seen her _eat_ Frootees and the few times these past two weeks he'd offered to get her some – either on the road or in the hotel – she had declined. At the time he'd figured she didn't want to bother him with it, make him go out of his way for her. Did she even _like_ the cereal? Why religiously buy a box a week if you had no intention of eating them?


	23. Day Fifty Seven of a New Life

**Day 57  
>Liddell Residence<br>Rainier, Washington**

It was late in the afternoon when Sam finally parked her car back in the garage and unloaded her groceries. She had gone on a trip to Olympia to check Therra's PO Box under the pretext of getting some books from the library of course, just in case the NID was still tailing her and on her way back she'd swung by the grocery store. Colonel O'Neill had gotten her some of the necessities on their way back to Rainier three nights ago but there were other things she needed to buy. It probably shouldn't have surprised her that he'd gone through the trouble of getting her some stuff while she was asleep even though she was pretty sure he was as eager to get away from her for a few days as she was to be on her own. It was remarkable though that the man had managed to get the right things and, more specifically, the correct brands. Obviously the NID was still keeping up their surveillance otherwise he could have never gotten it all right.

Not that she should have expected differently from the likes of Maybourne and whoever else that idiot was working with in this timeline. As a matter of fact, just to be on the safe side, she'd gone through the house with her EMF finder to make sure they hadn't added or changed surveillance equipment in the two weeks she'd been gone. It looked like all the bugs were still in place although it hadn't escaped her notice that someone had gone through her things. Luckily for her she had taken her little homemade gadget with her to Atlantic City or they might have found it and considering she hadn't been taken back into custody and her tools were still hidden in the bottle of body wash, it didn't look like they had discovered those either.

All that didn't matter though because Therra's company was finally off the ground and Melinda, who had remained in Trenton to do her work from the new headquarters had already acquired some of the necessary equipment from the money Sam had deposited on the company's account two days ago. Her assistant had also looked for new personnel, including divers, salvors, engineers and archeologists and if all went well a job offer should soon reach Daniel's alias as well. This morning the signed and approved copies of the last of the paperwork had been waiting for Sam in her PO Box and were accompanied by a note from Ben, saying everything was in order and permits, insurances and everything J.S. Salvaging Inc needed was taken care of. In short, it meant she could start hiring people.

It was going to be tricky to get the right people for the job since this wasn't exactly her area of expertise but she'd already tracked down a retired salvage master online and, seeing how he'd mentioned receiving very expensive medical bills after the death of his wife a few months ago on his social networking page, Sam was hopeful she could entice him with a high payout for a one-time job to coordinate the salvaging and use his expertise to hire new personnel too. It wasn't as if she would have use for him after she got what she needed from the ocean's floor or that she needed all the money she'd won in Atlantic City. It was a win-win situation and all she had to do was convince the man to take the job, which hopefully wouldn't take more than a few weeks tops.

Once the personnel was hired and the necessary equipment was bought, all they were going to need was the exact location of where the ship went down. Unfortunately, it wasn't as simple as looking them up otherwise others would have already done so and the ship or at least its cargo would have already been salvaged. The last known coordinates before the ship went down had already been searched but nothing had turned up and most companies would use currents and tides to calculate where the wreck could possibly be resting. The only advantage Therra's company had was that they knew what to look for – naquadah. However, that also meant Sam would have to make a modified UTD from scratch to be able to pick up a signal when scanning the seabed.

In itself that wouldn't be much of a problem considering she had been the one to come up with the universal tricorder device for the SGC, so they could carry the yellow handheld device on off-world missions to take readings similar to those normally taken by the MALP or UAV. Over the years the device had been modified to what she knew today and was capable of taking a variety of environmental readings including light, temperature, atmospheric chemicals or pollution, radiation, energy signatures, electricity, temporal fluctuations, radio or RDF transmissions and naquadah. The problem was that she didn't have the same resources in this timeline as she'd had at the SGC nor did she have any pure naquadah to test and recalibrate the device. All she had were the tools she kept hidden in the house and traces of the element in her blood.

Of course, the naquadah in her system was a huge benefit considering the extremely dense dark gray quartz-like metal doesn't even naturally occur in the solar system and in a way having only herself to test it on would make the doohickey even more sensitive. In a former host only trace elements remained while Goa'uld technology often used refined, concentrated naquadah or some kind of naquadah alloy. The signal coming from a Jaffa or host – former or current – was usually negligible on a UTD under normal settings otherwise her, Teal'c's and later Vala's presence would have influenced the readings too much to get a reliable outcome.

However, it was possible to adjust the sensitivity if need be and considering she now needed to find naquadah technology off the coast of New Jersey at a depth of possibly seventy-five meters according to the last known coordinates of the ship, a greater sensitivity might be just what she needed. Normally the distance could have been a problem seeing how they'd never used the UTDs under water before but by calibrating the device on the naquadah in her blood from a distance it should be able to pick up the more concentrated naquadah of the ship's cargo.

Sam sighed, her mind still going light-years a minute as she mindlessly put the groceries away. She knew what to do and she was positive she could make the modified UDT and most likely have it delivered at Therra's company in time too… those weren't the issues bothering her. The real challenge would be in making the doohickey without the NID, or even Colonel O'Neill on one of his unannounced visits, getting wind of it. How could she possibly create and test it when most of her house was bugged? It wasn't as simple as putting a homemade EMF finder together, which hadn't taken her all that long while hiding out in the unmonitored bathroom.

So far she'd been able to mislead the NID on several occasions but even they would get suspicious if she would be holed up in her bathroom for hours on end and several days in a row! Perhaps she could sneak in a few hours in total per day by spreading them over the full twenty-four hours, but that also meant it would take her longer to finish the device with all those self-imposed interruptions compared to being able to tinker away freely in her lab. It was also on the assumption she wouldn't get unexpected company, like a surprise visit from a certain colonel…

It had been Saturday since she'd last seen him, Sam thought to herself as she exchanged a newly purchased box of Frootees for the old unopened one in her kitchen cabinet. He'd dropped her off here and left, after they'd spent fifteen hours together in the car that day because they had both been intent on getting 'home' as fast as possible. She didn't remember much of the last few hours of the drive, having fallen asleep some time after they had passed Spokane but she did recall how O'Neill had woken her up when they'd been parked on her driveway and that he'd somehow found the time to pick up some groceries too. The rest was a bit of a blur and getting to bed to continue sleeping had been on the forefront of her mind. Spending more time together had seemed an almost insurmountable task at the time, especially after the struggle and physical contact that had happened as a result of her waking him while he was in the throes of a nightmare that morning in Billings and now she didn't even recall seeing him off that night.

As a matter of fact, it hadn't even registered with her that she'd thrown her dirty clothes in the laundry before retreating to her room and she'd been surprised to find her bags unpacked in the morning. It had also made her wonder what else she'd forgotten and she'd quickly gone through the house just to make sure Colonel O'Neill had actually left and found everything in order; the house had even been locked up. She still wasn't sure if she'd been awake enough to do that or if she'd simply gotten into bed and the Colonel had taken it upon himself to lock the doors before letting himself out. Another thing she couldn't recall is if she'd bothered wishing him goodnight and if perhaps he had mentioned he would be dropping by again later this week. So far she hadn't heard a thing from him, let alone having seen him.

That bothered her more than it should, Sam acknowledged wryly as she walked off to the pantry with the unopened box of Frootees in her hands. She swallowed hard when she noticed the shelf with Frootees was almost full and only just managed to squeeze the box in with its unopened cousins. The breakfast cereal was a small comfort but a poor replacement of her dead husband and a constant reminder of her life prior to ending up in this timeline. Perhaps, she thought, it was time to let go because now it only hurt to look at the boxes and realize how many weeks had gone by since she'd last seen and touched her Jack.

The constant presence of Colonel O'Neill the past two weeks had somehow lessened the hurt, the ache she felt in her heart when thinking of her husband. In a way it had helped her cope with his absence, or perhaps if she was honest with herself it hadn't so much helped her cope as ignore the fact it had been over three months since she'd watched him die. Sam was well aware of the fact that having this O'Neill around soothed her soul somewhat, it allowed her to keep the pain locked away and not deal with losing _him_ because she just kept telling herself this was temporary; as soon as she'd restored the timeline she would be able to prevent Jack from dying…

She knew the Colonel wasn't the same man she'd married but he was similar enough for her body to respond to him in the same way it would to her husband. O'Neill's nightmare had only highlighted the many similarities both men shared and even though she realized – in hindsight – it had been foolish of her to react the way she would with Jack, it nevertheless thrilled her that she _had_ managed to get through to him and prevent him from actually hurting her. It was probably a bit twisted but she'd take what she could get. After the danger had passed it hadn't escaped her attention how nice it felt to have his weight resting on her, even partially crushing her to the floor at one point. Or how he'd smelled the same as Jack. It had been easy to get carried away in the moment with his familiar dark gaze on her when they were pressed close together and she knew she hadn't been the only one affected.

Afterwards though, the awkwardness hadn't been down to embarrassment as O'Neill might have suspected but plain old guilt. It was so terrifyingly easy to fall into the trappings of this new life and the attraction she felt for the Colonel, but giving into that also made her feel incredibly guilty; for all intents and purposes she was married. Technically Jack had died but she refused to acknowledge that because she knew the moment the timeline was fixed he would be at her side again. That moment could be a mere weeks from now, or if the salvaging took longer several months. It wasn't right for her to enjoy the presence of Colonel O'Neill simply because it excited her and made her feel, let her forget for a moment about her miserable life without her Jack. How could she face him afterwards knowing she'd acted on the attraction she felt for his counterpart?

That had been one of the things on Sam's mind these past three days but she still hadn't come to a conclusion or a decision about what to do. However, she _had_ come to the realization that she missed Colonel O'Neill after spending almost no time apart from him for two weeks. It hadn't helped her peace of mind any and she still didn't know if it was a good thing he hadn't come around yet or not. The time she spent alone was used for her usual scheming but she had also started her usual over-thinking. There had been days on the road that she and O'Neill had hardly spoken a word, mostly because one of them was asleep or the sexual tension had reared its ugly head again and they'd spent the time in awkward, heavy silences. By the time they'd reached Atlantic City though conversation had come more easily and now she realized she missed having him around just to talk.

Of course there had been ulterior motives for her behavior on her part but that didn't take away that she had enjoyed having conversations with him. It wasn't that she was in some kind of social isolation or anything but she had never been one for much chitchat and as Alice Liddell she simply didn't have that many interesting things to discuss with her neighbors. With Colonel O'Neill she'd been able to share some of the amazing experiences she'd lived through over the years and while she'd never confide in him, it was comforting to be able to talk to him about her real life. Even if he didn't seem to believe everything coming from her mouth and more than likely would report back every word to his superiors.

It was a strange realization that up until arriving in this timeline Sam had never been alone much. Sure, she'd lived alone for most of her adult life and had preferred it that way. Even after getting together with her Jack they'd each had their own space because of their different assignments. It had still been very much his or her place with the other merely making themselves comfortable when sleeping over for the weekend or, if they were lucky, a few days of leave. Her professional life was very different though; she had always been surrounded with people at work, even back in the early days after graduating from the Academy.

A lot of people had this image of a lonesome geek in a white lab coat staring at computers or squinting through a microscope when thinking about scientists, but it really wasn't anything like that. She often worked with fellow scientists and had shared labs and office spaces with fellow scientists back at the Pentagon. In the academic world people that were your competition could just as easily become your colleague, temporarily or not, much like how Rodney McKay had first found his way to the SGC by getting on the military's payroll and then later on ended up stationed at Atlantis – under her command. At the SGC Sam hadn't really been alone either with her team always being around somewhere and even when she'd been pulling all-nighters one or more of them would check in on her. Fellow scientists would often drop by to ask help for their own project, offer their assistance or merely brainstormed with her over one piece of alien technology or another. It helped to bounce ideas off each other, whether that was with someone like Daniel – with a completely different area of expertise – or someone like Dr Lee or even McKay.

As she'd climbed the ranks she'd gotten more responsibility, in the field as well as in the labs at the SGC and eventually had even transferred out to Area 51. There she'd been heading up Stargate Research and Development with an entire team of eager and competent scientists under her command, where no one was ever truly working alone on a project. Atlantis had been slightly different in that she had been 'The Man' and it had finally made her realize why Jack had always been complaining about taking General Hammond's old job and flying a desk in general. Still, even as the city's commander she had also become friends, or at least friendly, with many people stationed there. Most of the time she had been surrounded with civilians, soldiers, aliens or scientists and considering the relative isolation from Earth it was hard not to 'bond'.

Now, for the first time since she'd left home all those years ago she was truly alone and the only company she enjoyed was that of the counterpart of her dead husband…

* * *

><p><strong>Day 59<br>McChord AFB  
>Lakewood, Washington<strong>

Jack was quietly doodling on his notepad as General Kennedy was quietly conversing with Hank and General Hammond, although the latter didn't really seem to be joining the conversation and was merely listening. Perhaps it was because of what his CO had told him three weeks ago, how the higher ups seemed to be favoring the NID and even Hank although he was retired because their methods would bring them the results they needed in regards to Samantha Carter. Or at least that was what the brass was hoping for. Hammond himself had told him his own retirement was coming up soon and that he was unsure how long the President would keep him in charge with Kennedy and Hank both willing to push the boundaries to get what they wanted.

If anything, it was possible General Hammond was only still assigned to this operation because he probably wouldn't protest too much in his last year and he was already briefed on the entire situation with the time travelers, or whatever Sam and her friends were. It would be easy to put a retired general like Hank in an advisory role with Hammond in official command collaborating with General Kennedy from the NID. In reality though, it seemed like Hank and Kennedy were pulling the strings.

Maybourne and Simmons were sitting on the other side of the table, Harry looking slightly peeved – and Jack doubted it was because of the uncomfortable dress blues – and Simmons looking smug in his regular suit, probably because he was finally included in these nice little get-togethers they had every few weeks. Now that Jack thought about it that might also be the exact reason why Maybourne was irked! In the past he'd been unfortunate enough to work with the rat bastard on occasion but he didn't know much about Simmons, other than that the man seemed to have a preference for dressing in a more NID-like suit than his Air Force blues.

However, after seeing the two colonels interact in the beginning of this operation and knowing Simmons had gotten the delightful task of being in charge of surveillance while Maybourne was joining the big boys at their meetings Jack had gotten the impression that Harry had seniority – or at least had more experience or perhaps a higher standing with the NID. Something that might be changing soon…

"Gentlemen, welcome," General Hammond suddenly spoke in his Texan twang.

Jack felt slightly obligated to pay attention now that his CO had apparently decided to start their meeting and, well, because the three star seemed to be the only ally he had in this room. "Sir," he said as pleasantly as possible.

The other men murmured greetings as well and when everyone was looking expectantly at Hammond he continued. "I think it's clear why we're all here today; Colonel O'Neill, I think I speak for everyone when I say we've all read your reports about the trip to Atlantic City you and Ms Carter took."

He nodded grimly, reminded of all the paperwork he'd been doing the past five days. It really was amazing what he'd been able to jot down, little details about certain conversation topics between him and Sam. Once he'd gotten started he started recalling more and more and soon his finger had tired from all the scrolling through his reports. Jack listened with half an ear as Hammond and the others murmured about some of the things he'd listed in his reports and to his surprise he didn't even feel a hint of guilt at keeping some things from them.

For instance, he hadn't mentioned Sam's late friend, Janet something or the woman's adoptive daughter, who seemed to be important to her. He couldn't really tell why he'd been reluctant to share that tidbit other than the sadness that had overcome Sam during dinner as she'd spoken about them and the fact that the girl was Tyler's age. Landry had already used Tyler against him in something close to emotional blackmail for Jack to agree to this damned assignment in the first place, knowing that his son was a weakness of his. Something Hank probably found very handy and more likely than not foreign, because Jack found it hard to believe the man cared much about his own daughter.

If he did would he have used someone else's child against that person? Jack couldn't, he didn't want this Cassie girl to become another pawn for Hank Landry to play with, something to be used somehow against Sam – not when she wasn't a threat. There was no doubt in his mind that if he told Hank or the NID about Cassandra from Toronto and how she was probably the closest thing Sam had to a child, they would somehow locate her and use the poor kid against her even if the girl in this timeline wouldn't even know her.

Another thing he'd kept to himself was the kiss he and Sam had almost shared in the elevator. How she'd tried to wake him up from the nightmare, or the struggle that had ensued. He still felt guilty about almost strangling her and he briefly wondered if her bruises had faded to a greenish tint already. The secret stash of Frootees he'd found in the pantry before leaving her house was yet another thing he hadn't shared with anyone. Obviously those cereals meant something to her yet she never ate them. Jack, on the other hand was a big fan of the sugary breakfast with some milk poured over it.

Ever since coming across the unopened boxes he hadn't been able to shake the memory of how she'd known a lot of his likes and dislikes during their road trip, that she'd known his favorite beer and other snacks he preferred. Obviously it was something he shared with his counterpart and while he would probably know the favorite breakfasts of some of the men he'd worked with for a while, it was still something that bothered him. In retrospect her sometimes-territorial behavior over the Frootees she'd bought when he helped her unpack groceries was slightly over the top, especially since she wasn't eating them. She'd even snatched a box from his hands once when he'd merely exclaimed his surprise at seeing them among her food!

All that in combination with the attraction he now knew she felt for him, or more likely for his counterpart, made Jack pretty damn sure the relationship she'd shared with his double wasn't merely a professional CO/2IC one or just friends. At the same time he found it hard to believe Sam, who seemed like a good person and soldier, would get romantically involved with a superior, especially commanding officer who was directly responsible for her welfare _and_ promotions. Perhaps they were what Tyler liked to call friends with benefits, Jack thought with a grimace. Somehow, he didn't think Sam was that kind of person either and he really didn't want to think another him could be that casual with any woman either, especially not someone like Sam.

"… have all met Colonel Simmons," Kennedy's voice intruded on his thoughts. "He was in charge of the surveillance on Samantha Carter and also liaised with the OSI's surveillance on Jackson and Mitchell."

"Yeah, about that," Jack interrupted somewhat rudely, but he didn't really care about Kennedy's opinion one way or another. It was already clear the man didn't like him and appeared to be in cahoots with Hank on this situation, and while he was technically Air Force the one star had been with the NID for over a decade now and didn't seem to care much about military regulations anyway considering his behavior towards Hammond, who outranked him by two stars.

"Colonel O'Neill, you have something to say?"

He shrugged, sliding his gaze from Kennedy to Simmons. "Do they cover stealth in NID training? Because that NID tail of yours just, what's the word… oh yeah, sucked!"

"Colonel," Hammond said admonishingly, a clear warning in his eyes.

"Oh come on, Sir," Jack cried, feeling his old feelings of irritation with the incompetence of the NID agents rise again. "They got made! I spotted their sedan on more than one occasion and after spending some time with… _Alice_, I doubt she could have missed them either," he added, nearly calling her Sam but that was a familiarity he couldn't afford. "Not to mention that she oh so accidentally on purpose bumped into one of your agents and, knowing he was compromised he sat down to have drinks with her!"

Simmons' smug demeanor was gone but he clearly wasn't defeated yet. "First of all, Colonel, it hasn't been proven that Ms Carter spotted our agents nor is it clear whether or not she was aware of Agent Barrett's status as an NID agent and his current assignment."

"Maybe, but you insisted on keeping him on the job after his position was compromised, which led to your agents _losing_ her at the museum a few days later!"

"Ms Carter wasn't lost," Kennedy said, glaring at his two fellow NID operatives, "the agents had merely lost sight of her for a short time."

Jack rolled his eyes and tapped his pen irritably. "An _hour_. She was unaccounted for for over an hour. Who knows, with their incompetence it could have been closer to two hours! Either way, because Beret got compromised he was unable to perform his job properly since he couldn't get close enough to her without risking her IDing him from the diner."

Maybourne cleared his throat loudly but didn't say a word until Kennedy gave an almost imperceptible nod. "That's exactly why Agent _Barrett_ has been replaced and is now in a different position that eliminates any possible contact with the target."

"But he's still on the case?"

"He's one of our best at surveillance, General Hammond," Simmons replied coolly, seemingly uncaring of the fact they'd just discussed the agent's mistake. "Replacing him would mean yet another person being briefed on the nature of this operation and that is something we cannot afford. As long as he's behind the scenes no further harm can be done. But rest assured, gentlemen, he will be reprimanded for his clear failing."

Jack wasn't sure if he wanted to know what fell under reprimanding an agent for such a big mistake with Intelligence but accepted the answer nonetheless, especially after receiving a look from Hammond telling him to move on. There was no need to further antagonize these fine folks of the NID after all, not when they seemed to have more of a say in his own assignment than his CO. "Okay… what about your search of her house?"

"We didn't find anything of importance."

"But you're still bugging it, right?"

"I have instructed Colonel Simmons to have his men keep up the current surveillance for the time being, while he will take a more active role in this operation," Kennedy replied.

_Well, well, well_, Jack thought; it looked like he'd been right! Maybourne certainly didn't seem pleased with that information if the dirty look on his face was anything to go by. "Which is…?"

Hank smirked at him – which was never a good sign as far as he was concerned – and took over. "Jack, you mentioned in your reports that the goal of your assignment was feasible? Ms Carter's behavior didn't indicate any disapproval or rejection?"

"Not really," he said slowly. If anything, she'd been the one initiating the flirting and he'd only gone along with it… well, that wasn't completely true; he'd gotten carried away with it, was more like it. "Like I stated in the reports there were certain indicators that suggested a, eh…"

"Certain interest?" Hammond helpfully supplied, appearing to be just as uncomfortable with the nature of this assignment as he was. In a way it was surprising since he'd been the only one to be blunt about the assignment in their first meeting but three weeks ago it seemed he had backtracked somewhat.

"Yeah," Jack nodded. Like those two near-kisses, her shortness of breath, dilated pupils, goose bumps at his touch… He hadn't specified the tells in his report and he wasn't about to do so now. The assignment itself was embarrassing enough already and he felt strangely reluctant to share such intimate details of his encounters with Sam. "Subconscious things she wouldn't be able to fake if she wanted to."

"Very well, excellent work," Hank praised him with a certain glee and even Maybourne was smirking.

"Thank you, Sir. I pride myself on my deductive reasoning skills," he replied sarcastically.

General Kennedy fumbled a bit with the folder in front of him and eventually pushed over a file. "Now that Colonel Simmons will be joining us here Agent Cross will be taking over the surveillance so he will be your primary contact. Understood, Colonel O'Neill?"

Taking the file and browsing through it he murmured his assent, silently wondering what would happen with Maybourne now that it looked like Simmons might be replacing him. "Is that all, Sirs?" He questioned when everyone remained silent, their eyes on him.

"As you were told last week Jackson has mentioned an interest in getting a job. Clearly we can't just let him do whatever he wants with his double still alive and well in Egypt, so Colonel Maybourne will be going to New York City to rendezvous with Jackson's OSI handlers to use the NID's resources to look into certain job offers and meet with Doctor MacKenzie as well to get an update on what he has learned so far from him," Kennedy replied.

Harry looked decidedly less pleased with this news than Simmons had with his own, which was understandable since it indeed seemed to be a simple replacement and reassignment for Harry. It could, however, also mean trouble for Jack himself. After all, he had little to no experience with Simmons and had no idea what to expect from the man, unlike his previous experiences with Maybourne. At least he knew where he stood with that rat bastard. Not to mention that Maybourne was pretty sneaky and underhanded, which made him wonder about the guy replacing him. There had to be a reason why Kennedy wanted Simmons to take a more active role and Jack was pretty sure it meant only more problems for him.

"Jack," Hank said in his condescending tone, waiting for all eyes to return to him. "I'm sure you understand the importance of your assignment and that the brass want results. You said Ms Carter had made it clear she wasn't interested in becoming Mission Commander Carter, correct?" When he nodded the retired two star continued. "Considering all the other options have also proven to be useless it has been decided we need you to take a, eh… more aggressive approach."

"Excuse me?"

"We need you to take this friendship you've developed with Ms Carter a step further, son," Hammond clarified. To his credit he didn't stammer despite flushing as he spoke the words and their implied meaning became clear.

_Oh crap! _Of course he'd suspected this moment might come, one day, if providing mere friendship or even a shoulder to cry on for Sam wasn't enough. But never in a million years had he _expected_ to get an order like this! Not even after their first meeting in which Hammond and the others had made it pretty clear what they wanted from him. Jack had just never thought, perhaps foolishly, that it would come to this simply because he couldn't imagine Sam actually being interested in him! It had been pretty clear the NID was getting impatient but still… "Now? I mean, already?"

"She's been here for over three months, Jack," Maybourne spoke up. "And we don't have anything to show for it except some tidbits of information she's been careful to share. The higher ups need more and considering she's already shared more with you these past two weeks, they are hoping that changing tactics might knock her off balance enough to slip up. Or who knows, she might actually do a one-eighty and decide to join us once the two of you get a bit more… comfortable."

Jack doubted it would be that easy or that Harry was actually sharing the NID's true reasons behind wanting him to seduce Sam but it was unlikely they'd tell him the truth anyway. "I don't know… I think it's too fast."

"Well, you better make it work, son," Hammond replied, evading his gaze by keeping his eyes on the files in front of him. "Clearly, this also means your leave request has been denied."

"Yes Sir," Jack muttered. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise considering he'd been planning on going home to visit his family and he doubted he could have enjoyed spending time with them when he was secretly planning on seducing another woman…


	24. Day Sixty One of a New Life

**Day 61  
>Dodgson Apartment<br>New York City, New York**

Daniel lay sprawled on his bed's comforter, his prosthetic leg discarded on the floor and his laptop on his pillow. A smug grin was still firmly planted on his face as he reread the job offer that had landed into his email's inbox. It wasn't that he had doubted Sam but it had been a while since he'd heard from her, only once since he had replied to her initial message and he'd gotten anxious. Or maybe a bit restless, with nothing to keep him entertained. Physiotherapy had been scaled back now that he was getting better at walking with his prosthetic and other than that he only had his once a week appointments with MacKenzie. Not really something to look forward to or write home about.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd had this much spare time, certainly not since before his university days! His life had always been hectic but that was exactly the way he liked it. MacKenzie would probably tell him he surrounded himself with things or other people because he'd lost his parents at a young age and had gone into foster care and whatnot, but Daniel simply enjoyed stimulating his brain by reading, learning or experiencing new things. Even when he had been living on Abydos for a year he'd had more to do; learning their ways and customs, providing for him and Sha're, doing his daily chores and in his free time he'd been either studying the cartouche with 'gate addresses or teaching the Abydonians some basic English.

After joining the SGC there had always been something to do for him if he wasn't on a mission with SG-1; studying alien languages, artifacts, cultures, races, brainstorm with Sam or other scientists, work on lexicons for other off-world teams and recruits, go on some off-world dig or even attend a lecture on Earth, although most of them were wildly incorrect. And of course there was the whole dying and ascending thing he did on occasion. In short, he kept himself busy.

Charles Dodgson didn't and couldn't do any of those things; it simply wasn't allowed because the Air Force and the OSI were afraid that he would magically find a way to correct the timeline or something like that. Not only was it an incredibly boring and tedious existence, it was also very uneventful. It was difficult to fill his days and it had gotten so bad he'd even been tempted to get a TV but after looking online to check out channels and TV programs he'd come to the quick realization that watching daytime television all day was probably more mind-numbing than anything else so he'd decided against it. Still, it was hard to get up early every day knowing he didn't have anything at all to look forward to and it made his days feel even longer than the 36-hour ones on Abydos.

Most of his time was spent in libraries and bookstores but there were only so many different ones he could visit because of his leg and he was pretty sure he'd already read, borrowed or bought most of the interesting books. He preferred to spend as much time away from the dark and depressing apartment that was now his because it felt more like an impersonal hotel room and was far too… empty and spacious, he was used to having artifacts and ritualistic weapons like different swords and such decorating his shelves, side tables and walls.

Now though, over a month since Sam had made contact and discreetly hinted at her plans it was finally time for him to step up. All Daniel had to do was convince his handlers that the job was perfect for him and get their permission to contact Sam's company in response to their online job advertisement that had triggered the search parameters of his account on the employment website – most likely because Sam had tailored the job's description for his alias.

Changing tabs he checked out the website of her company, J.S. Salvaging Inc. again. If there had been any doubts about whether this was the salvaging company she had told him to be on the lookout for they had been erased when he browsed the site. There were two, or maybe three, hints there that made it clear there was no coincidence in receiving an alert for this job offer. The names she had used were ones he recognized; Therra Carlin, both their alter egos from when they'd received a memory stamp on P3R-118 to become one of the planet's underground workers. Daniel wasn't sure why she hadn't used Jona – Jack's alter ego – but perhaps she thought his own alias sounded more like a last name or that it would be more convincing for him.

That was also why he'd more or less assumed the company's initials stood for Jack and Sam but he'd been pleasantly surprised by her ingenuity when he read the about us page; _Joma Secu_. To regular people it probably sounded like a foreign name or maybe some kind of motto they'd never heard of before, but to him it spoke volumes. _Joma Secu_: Follow me, the Jaffa challenge of leadership. It was something they'd first encountered with K'tano, who'd claimed to be the Goa'uld Imhotep's first prime who'd been gathering a rebel Jaffa army on a planet called Cal Mah. They had all been fooled until another Goa'uld had told Teal'c about K'tano's true nature and he had challenged his leadership by calling for _Joma Secu_, a fight to the death – which admittedly could also be where he and Sam were heading if her crazy yet genius plan wouldn't work – and Teal'c had won, unmasking K'tano as the Goa'uld Imhotep himself.

Sam had nothing to worry about; he'd follow her anywhere! He had seen her grow as a person but also as a soldier over the years since their first meeting on Abydos. It hadn't taken him long to realize she was highly intelligent but seeing her in the field, following orders, strategizing, taking out bad guys and saving their asses or a planet or two had shown him she was also a very competent officer. Sure, Jack and the guys on the first and second mission to Abydos were more experienced than she was but even when she'd been a mere captain Jack and Hammond had let her lead SG-1 after SG-11 had not returned from PXY-887 and Jack himself had been injured and therefore incapable of taking command.

After her promotion to major and Jack's apparent retirement Daniel had more or less expected Sam to get command – and he knew Teal'c trusted her too. They'd gotten Colonel Makepeace though because according to General Hammond she didn't have enough experience, although he wasn't sure if the man had meant it or if it had simply been an excuse to get Makepeace, who was suspected of treason, on the team since it had all – including Jack's retirement – turned out to be a ruse in the end. Like himself, Sam had definitely lost some of her innocence and zeal for exploration after realizing that it often comes with an intangible cost since joining the SGC. They had lost too many loved ones, friends and coworkers and seen too much death and destruction for it not to affect the pleasure they once had in their exploration of the universe.

He would say he himself had gone from geeky scholar to hardened soldier and sometimes he had a brief moment where he realized that a handful of years ago he would have enthusiastically introduced himself and the team to unknown aliens because of his faith in people, whereas now he was more cautious and had no trouble carrying a gun or using it. Exploration of the universe had lost some of its shine and the last few years the focus had been more on fighting the bad guys who were intent on taking over the galaxy than merely exploring and learning new things. The local and galactic politics hadn't helped either and suddenly he'd been looked at to take on a bigger diplomatic role in off-world negotiations while archeology, philology and anthropology were his true passions and where his heart lay.

But Sam, well, in a little over a decade she had gone from a green, overeager captain to a seasoned commanding officer in charge of an alien city in another galaxy. Her focus had sharpened but she herself hadn't hardened despite the things she'd gone through; she still had that warmth that attracted and engaged people even if her innocence was slightly tarnished by her experiences. Her confidence in her skills had definitely flourished under Jack's command and Daniel knew that she had especially learned how to balance science and being in charge on Atlantis, and how to make the difficult choices while being in command of and responsible for the lives of hundreds of people. It was a position she filled with poise and grace; she didn't make her decisions lightly and the consequences of her actions could weigh heavily on her mind, but she always had the best interest of those under her command and the safety of the galaxy at heart.

This time they found themselves once again responsible for the fate of the planet, even if it was one that was slightly different than the Earth they knew and loved. This timeline's General Landry had accused them of being arrogant but in Daniel's eyes it was arrogant of this government to think they would be able to withstand an attack by Ba'al. Landry had spoken about the events in people's lives that would be affected by altering the timeline that day in the hangar but he seemed to fail to realize that had already happened the first time Ba'al went back into time! Not to mention that a Goa'uld attack would kill millions if not billions, depending on what Ba'al's motivation was for coming here; he could destroy the planet out of vengeance or maybe simply choose to enslave the population.

Either way, the planet was doomed and the sooner Sam's plan could be implemented the better! She had relayed her intent but had left out most of the details since it was difficult to convey them all in her telegram-style messages in Ancient – and probably unnecessary too. It was clear to Daniel that she'd come up with an idea she could execute on her own if necessary, in case he or Mitchell wouldn't be able to help her. From what he understood Mitchell wasn't going to be involved in the plan, or at least not in the next few steps that were mostly up to himself.

Daniel had no idea how Sam had managed to create this salvaging company under the nose of the OSI and this timeline's Jack O'Neill but she had obviously succeeded. Now she was going to need his help once her employees had salvaged the shipwreck's cargo. Again, it was something she could probably do on her own but he doubted she lived nearby and could easily sneak off without being caught by surveillance, plus he had more experience with this kind of thing and like she'd mentioned, it would go a lot faster with his help. It would also make it easier for the two of them to leave together and initiate the last phase of her plan…

* * *

><p><strong>Day 62<br>Liddell Residence  
>Rainier, Washington<strong>

The sun was already low in the sky when Jack parked his SUV near Sam's house. Glancing at the passenger seat he tried to make a decision about his next step. Tonight he'd come here for the obvious reasons – his assignment – but he wasn't sure what kind of welcome, if any, to expect from her. It didn't help that he was still uncomfortable with what he had to do and the fact that he'd started to like her and felt intensely attracted to her only made it worse. His leave request had been denied and Sara hadn't been too pleased hearing he wouldn't be home this weekend and that it could even be another few weeks until he was allowed to go back to Colorado.

In a way Jack thought it might be better this way because of his orders and mixed feelings about all this. Yet he still felt like a hypocritical bastard sitting here in his car contemplating what to do and how to make a move on another woman while his wife and son were waiting for his return. It didn't really matter that he did it for the right reasons – to gain information and Sam's trust – for his conscious and he was pretty sure his reasoning wouldn't make either woman feel less betrayed if they ever found out. There was still the chance all this was for nothing and that Sam would never accomplish or even attempt to fix the timeline but at the same time he couldn't afford to risk his son's life like that, by placing his trust in someone he barely knew.

God, he didn't even know how to approach Sam. Sure, he'd discovered she was attracted to him too during their little trip but that didn't necessarily mean she wanted to act on it. Otherwise she could have easily made the first move, right? Women did that sort of thing all the time these days, compared to when he'd been single. For crying out loud, he'd been married for almost thirty years and they expected him to seduce a smart, independent, attractive and much younger woman?

All Jack knew was that he had to be careful and methodical about this. He couldn't afford to come on too strong, not after the few intense moments they'd shared in Atlantic City or even in that motel in Billings and especially not after not having seen or spoken to her in over a week. It would be awkward and might rouse her suspicions if he would lay it on too thick. Not that he had that much experience with seducing someone and he certainly wasn't aware of any dating protocols these days, the only thing coming close was what he'd seen with Tyler and his flings but Jack didn't think it was wise to follow the example of a college kid at his age and certainly not with someone like Sam. She'd probably kick his ass.

No, he had to plan this just like any other mission and stick to a step-by-step plan. No rushing or being impatient and skipping steps. He'd done his scouting and the two-week trip had been excellent recon but there were still missing bits of intel. Some of it he had to figure out for himself, like the hidden stash of Frootees in her pantry. Clearly they held a significance and combined with how she wasn't eating them herself, her hostile attitude when he'd snatched up a box in the first few weeks she'd been living and her reactions to his proximity he had deduced there had been more than friendship between her and, eh… the other him. Her commanding officer had clearly been more than a friend. Although, technically he hadn't been her commanding officer anymore if Jack recalled some of the stuff from her earlier interviews correctly, but she had been a bit vague as to whom she'd reported on her last command. Could have been his counterpart or that civilian oversight organization Mitchell had mentioned.

"Baby steps," Jack told himself. Obviously nothing was going to happen if he remained in his parked car in her street contemplating his next move. It wouldn't be long now until the sun was setting, he thought as he first looked out the window and then checked the time. Hopefully he wasn't too late and she hadn't eaten yet despite the late hour. "Dinner and a movie," he muttered to himself as he grabbed the DVDs and pizza from the seat next to him. Back when he'd been dating that usually meant actually taking a girl out to the movies and dinner but he figured that fell under coming on too strong now. Besides, they'd already had dinner a few times in the two weeks they'd spent together. Asking her out on a real date would probably scare her off, this was more casual. Something friends would do, showing up with dinner and a movie on a Sunday night. And they were friends, sort of. Maybe.

Steeling himself he got out of the car and, carrying his peace offerings, made his way up the driveway and the steps leading to her house to ring the bell. Just stay cool, he told himself as he rocked on the balls of his feet, waiting for movement from inside. After what felt like an eternity but was probably no more than a minute or so the door swung open to reveal Sam, who was squinting against the low sun behind him.

"Oh, hello," she said, after blinking a few times.

Jack couldn't help but grin at her, feeling pleased with himself for putting that puzzled frown on her face. "Hey."

"Hi…"

"Um, I thought maybe…" He let his voice trail off, searching for the right words and trying to keep himself from squirming under her intense blue gaze. "Look, food."

"You brought me food?"

"Yeah sure you betcha," he replied at her nonplussed tone. Shoving the pizza in her hands he brushed past her and went inside the house. "You're going to have to share though. Unless you've already eaten?"

Sam bumped her hip against the front door to let it fall shut and followed him into the living room. "No, not yet. I, eh, wasn't all that hungry and hadn't decided what to make for dinner yet."

"Got caught up in something?" He asked, looking around the impeccable room. It was spick and span, clearly she'd been cleaning and nothing was out of place either. Not that she had a lot of things other than the basic furniture. Jack chuckled when her stomach suddenly growled and raised his brows at her. "Not hungry, eh?"

"I guess I lost track of time," she admitted with a furious blush. "What's this?"

He looked at her, holding the pizza box in one hand and the movie in the other. "It's a DVD. Don't tell me you don't know what that i-"

"I do," she protested, a small smile on her face.

"So, I figured we could watch a movie and eat pizza," he summed it up nicely as he moved towards the kitchen. Gesturing at the fridge he silently asked for permission to help himself to something to drink and she nodded while she placed the pizza on the coffee table. "Beer, wine or soda?"

"Wine, there's an open bottle in the door."

Jack grabbed the bottle and a beer for himself, moving to the cabinets to get her a glass and two plates for the pizza. He didn't think she was the type to let crumbs fall over her floor or furniture, even though she hadn't seemed too concerned about that during their road trip but that wasn't the same. "You weren't busy, were you?" He asked as he joined her in the living room, suddenly worried that she was only humoring him for no – or maybe for the free pizza. She was dressed in dark jeans and a blue sweater, nothing fancy but not really for lazing around the house either. Her feet were bare so he assumed she'd been somewhere in the house before he'd dropped by. Obviously not in the kitchen or living room by the looks of it, but maybe she'd been doing laundry or reading a book in her bedroom or something? "I mean, I wasn't interrupting anything…?"

"It's fine, I was just…" Sam waved in the direction of the hallway leading to her bedroom, utility room and garage. "_The Adventures of Luke Starkiller_, really?"

He smirked at her soft giggle and the first open and genuine smile he'd seen on her. "I figured you could tell me about the differences between this one and, eh-"

"_Star Wars_."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Plus I wasn't sure what kind of movie you liked. I know you don't like cop movies and I asked around about that other one, _Singing in the Rain_, but the guy at the rental shop had no idea what I was talking about."

"I can't believe it, that's a classic," she grumbled under her breath as she moved to put the DVD in its player.

Jack placed the plates and drinks on the table, waiting for her to join him on the couch. "Oh look, I can see my reflection in the surface," he teased her. "Do you ever use this coffee table, Sam?"

She shrugged, taking her wine in one hand and holding the remote in the other as she plopped down on the sofa. "I don't watch a lot of TV."

He wasn't going to argue with that, the place hardly looked lived in. Of course she had mentioned once that she had no idea what to do with such a big house but he hadn't really thought about it all that much. Determined to make sure she ate properly he handed her a plate with a slice of pizza and took one for himself, settling in next to her with his beer and plate. "Ready?"

"Yeah sure you betcha," Sam muttered, as she turned on the TV and pressed play.

Jack pleased to see her ignoring all the fancy options on screen and instead just choosing to start the movie. The blinds were still closed and he briefly wondered if she ever bothered to open them if she wasn't using this room anyway, but now he was thankful as the movie started and the twilight wasn't shining through the window. Taking a sip of beer he tried to relax and just enjoy the movie but he was highly aware of Sam sitting curled up on the pillow next to him, less than a foot of space between them. It didn't help that she was squirming to get comfortable and that he could smell the faint scent of her shampoo over the strong smell of pizza.

Within the first half hour of the movie the pizza was gone and Sam was sipping her second glass of wine, while he had yet to get his second beer. It would have been smarter to just get a couple out before they started watching but that seemed ill mannered and he liked them ice cold too on a late summer evening like tonight.

It had been quite a while since he'd last sat down to watch a movie with anyone but he found it quite amusing to hear her mutter under her breath about inaccuracies and he silently wondered if she was always taking everything so seriously that she couldn't even lose herself in a film for a few hours. Hearing her soft sounds of surprise though was even funnier, especially when she tried to explain the differences between this movie and the one she knew in a hushed tone, as if someone might scold them for talking through it.

He wasn't even paying all that much attention to the movie's plot and just took this as an opportunity to relax. Knowing the surveillance equipment of the NID wasn't recording any of this helped too. Even Kennedy knew that it wouldn't be smart to have anything that might be used as evidence against him – like the more or less illegal orders they'd given him in regards to his assignment to Sam – later on and while they hadn't agreed to turn anything off they had given him some kind of jamming device that was on his keychain and would disrupt the signal in the room he was at.

Another twenty minutes later Jack nearly jumped when Sam's hand landed just above his knee but she was merely using him as support to get up it turned out. He automatically reached for the remote to pause the movie even though he had no idea what was happening on screen, he had been too busy observing her and listening to her animated explanation about the science behind some of the space travel they were watching. "Sam?"

"Do you want another beer?" She asked as she was cleaning up the remnants of their meal. "I'll just use the bathroom and then I'll go get myself a soda so if you want anything…"

"Sure, I'll get it," he replied, taking the box from her. He watched as she walked off and moved to the fridge, dumping the pizza box and their plates on the counter. There wasn't enough wine left in the bottle for a full glass but he placed it back anyway, thinking it would be a waste to throw it out and got himself another beer and her a diet soda.

Jack was still a bit hungry, not having eaten a lot all day and silently wondered why he hadn't brought popcorn. He searched the cabinets but there weren't a lot of snacks present. Maybe it was better this way since he only liked the salty kind and even now he was still thirsty from the salty pizza. By the time Sam returned to the couch he'd had a glass of water and went back to the living room to join her, soda and beer in hand and a newly purchased – he'd checked the date last week – unopened box of Frootees from one of the cabinets under his arm. He set the drinks on the shiny coffee table and plopped back on the couch, opening the box before she could protest.

"What are you doing?" She asked as she too retook her seat, only this time she was even closer to him.

"You didn't have any snacks and I want something sweet after that salty pizza," he replied, popping some Frootees in his mouth. "You don't mind do you?"

She seemed to restrain herself as she calmly reached for her soda and took a sip before answering his question. "It's fine. Want to resume watching the movie?"

Interesting, he thought. "Sure."

Not even fifteen minutes in the second half Jack felt himself dozing off as Sam babbled on about some technical aspect of Starkiller's light swords, which apparently should be called lightsabers. He couldn't help himself as sleep overcame him in the casual, relaxed atmosphere of her darkened living room. Up until now he hadn't fully realized how used he'd gotten to her company during their trip and even though he knew it was dangerous he lowered his guard a bit. His eyes were heavy and it had been a while since he'd had a good night's sleep so a little nap wouldn't hurt anyone, he though. Of course, it wasn't the most romantic thing but it wasn't like Sam knew this was supposed to be a lead up to dating.

When he woke up he was surprised to find his nose buried in Sam's hair, with her head resting on his shoulder and one of her hands lying on his chest while she was sound asleep. The movie had already ended and the box of Frootees had fallen off his lap and was lying near his feet on the floor, some of the colorful cereal pieces were decorating his jeans and there were even a few on Sam's clothes. It hadn't escaped him how she'd effortlessly scooped up some herself out of the box, which was more difficult than one would imagine with the small box and their positions on the sofa, before he'd fallen asleep. Clearly she had experience using them as snacks while mindlessly – okay, maybe not in her case – watching television.

Now it was late though and no matter how comfortable this was, he should probably wake her up and get going. "Sam," he tried gently, pulling his face away from the soft blond locks. Her warmth was comfortable as her weight rested against his side, fitting against him perfectly with his arm stretched over the back of the couch. "C'mon, wakey wakey."

Jack eventually resorted to shaking her shoulder lightly even though he thought it was a shame to have to wake her if she was this far gone. Not to mention how nice it was to have her in his arms, so trusting and vulnerable especially after what had happened when she'd tried to wake him from a nightmare last week. He couldn't remember the last time Sara had cuddled up to him like this when he was asleep, either on the couch or even in bed simply because he could be unpredictable due to his colorful past. It wasn't that he blamed his wife for it; if anything he would probably be the one to avoid falling asleep on her when she was in his arms because he didn't want to hurt her. But he'd always enjoyed snuggling up to her before his nightmares had started taking their toll, he just was a tactile person and found it easier to convey his feelings through action instead of speech.

Sam stirred just as he was about to try and slip away without jostling her too much, because of his train of thought. "Hm?"

"We fell asleep and I really should get going," he replied when she looked up sleepily.

"Oh right," she nodded, biting her lower lips but not moving an inch.

Jack couldn't help but think how easy it would be to kiss her, her breath was warm against his chin and it smelled like Frootees and all he had to do was lean forward a teeny bit to catch her lips with his own. From the look in her eyes, with their dilated pupils, he could tell her thoughts were running along the same lines. His breathing hitched when her tongue darted out to lick her lips but at the same time reality came crashing down when she moved in his arms. Thoughts about Sara popped up and he quickly disentangled himself. "I really, eh, have to go," he said in a hoarse tone, jumping up from the sofa.

Sam brushed a hand through her hair and nodded, her cheeks visibly burning even in the low light. "Yes, of course. Go, I'll clean up here!"

He felt bad about leaving her with the mess – not that it was a lot – but he knew he had to get out of there right now before he would do something stupid, although he doubted that's how his superiors would see it. He simply wasn't ready for this and nearly tripped over that goddamned box of Frootees on his way to the door. "I'll, eh, talk to you later. Bye," he said quickly and dashed out of the door into the cooling night air.

* * *

><p><strong>Day 63<br>Medical Center  
>New York City, New York<strong>

It had been a few days now since Daniel had been notified of the job at Sam's – or maybe he should say Therra's – company and he had already passed it along to Special Agents Alexander and Micheal, his OSI handlers, but so far he hadn't heard anything back yet. Presumably the OSI was looking into the job description and the company itself and Daniel could only hope Sam had covered her tracks, otherwise they'd both be in trouble! Today he had broached the topic of getting a job, this one in particular, with Doctor MacKenzie during his usual Monday visits to the psychiatrist.

"You seem quite eager to get this particular job," MacKenzie commented, his dark eyes gazing at him intently. "Tell me; is there a specific reason for this?"

"No, not really," Daniel replied. "I mentioned wanting to get a job a while ago."

"That's true. Yet you've been at best vague about what kind of work you wanted to do."

He shrugged, subconsciously rubbing the skin around the strap of his prosthetic leg. "Well, this one was one of the few that actually match the skills Charles Dodgson is supposed to have and since it doesn't require physical labor or a lot of walking it seems like a good fit."

"And you can picture yourself doing this kind of job?"

"To be honest I don't think it's all that different from what I used to do at the university," Daniel replied, thinking back to those days. "I mean, it's basically cataloging various items salvaged from marine vessels. It bears some similarity to the work I did as an undergrad, only back then it involved ancient artifacts and required a bit more knowledge."

MacKenzie seemed to process this as he scribbled down some notes with his lips pursed. "You're not afraid the similarity is too big?"

"No, not really."

"Hm," the man muttered. "And after everything you've done in your life, do you really think this could be fulfilling?"

Daniel snorted, shaking his head at the irony. "No, but neither would any of the other jobs Charles is qualified for."

"And what about your counterpart?"

"What about him?"

"Well," the shrink sighed, gesturing vaguely with his left hand, "aren't you afraid people will see the resemblance between you two? After all, like you said this line of work is shares some similarities with archeology and there might be other archeologists working there. What if one of them identifies you as Daniel Jackson?"

Reaching for his glass of water he pretended to think it through as he took a sip. "Daniel Jackson isn't a very uncommon name, as a matter of fact there's that famous photographer with the same name. I've read the book and some of the articles and dissertations my counterpart has written and they are all… well, if I didn't know any better I'd say they're all very out there," he allowed a small smile. It was scary to think that could have been him if there had been no Stargate or no Catherine Langford to recruit him for the Program. "He's been laughed out of the academic world and is considered a whackjob, most archeologists have probably already forgotten about him after all these years. I doubt they're taking anything of his more recent work seriously and are simply ignoring him and his claims. Besides, have you seen that picture of him on the book cover?"

"I will admit your appearances differ slightly," MacKenzie reluctantly admitted.

"He really does look crazy," Daniel pointed out. "With the different glasses, hairstyles, clothes, attitudes, physique and let's not forget the reason I am actually here," he patted his prosthetic with a small grimace, "I really doubt anyone would 'recognize' me."

"Let's assume that is true; it won't bother you to be around those with similar if not lesser credentials than you yourself while you're doing the rather simple task of cataloging the items they will be examining further? I mean, you have several PhDs but Charles Dodgson has none and while this job technically wouldn't clash with the agreement you signed with the Air Force, it might not be the best fit."

Taking a moment he wondered how to phrase his answer and removed his glasses to rub them clean, more out of habit than actual necessity. "Well, considering I have been a civilian contractor with the Air Force for the past decade I have worked with many people who don't have a PhD. On most planets they have never heard of it and often don't have an equivalent; a lot of cultures have been kept primitive by the Goa'uld to prevent them from rebelling. I have met archeologists on the other side of the galaxy and some alien scholars have even sought refuge on Earth and worked in one of our science departments. One of my best friends, Teal'c, has hardly had any education other than training to become a warrior and he is one of the deepest and wisest men I've known. So, no, I don't think it will be a problem to do a job that some people with my credentials would think is beneath them. If I could enjoy life on a desert planet for over a year then why should this be any different?"

"I see."

Daniel refrained from mentioning how different his life was on Abydos, after all he and the Doctor had already discussed Sha're and some of the other Abydonians in an earlier session and he preferred not to think about it. Not now, at least, in this alternate timeline where for all he knew she could still be alive and living a wonderful life with her brother, father and other loved ones on a home planet that hadn't been destroyed by Anubis. "Anyway," he decided to change the subject slightly as he put his glasses back on, "I was thinking that the OSI will probably contact you to ask your medical opinion about this matter."

"Well, as long as you continue our appointments and the OSI approve of this job, I don't see a reason why I should object," MacKenzie replied after a few seconds. "Your physiotherapist has told me you're making great progress and I don't think your prosthetic will hinder a desk job much as long as you work reasonable hours."

"The job isn't full time," he quickly reassured the man. "And from what I could tell I don't think me having a prosthetic leg will make a difference to them. The cataloging is only necessary when they have actually salvaged cargo and I would be free to fill in my days with the hours they're offering for the most time."

"In that case I think this is definitely a step in the right direction. It would perhaps give your new life some purpose."

Nodding, Daniel agreed albeit for different reasons than the psychiatrist obviously thought. "This way I wouldn't have to spend all my time reading books to keep myself entertained." Not that it had been a waste of time. Certainly not, considering some of the research he'd done for Sam while his handlers thought he was merely reading another boring history book. Of course he knew most of the details already from his experience in the original timeline but Ba'al's actions could have had unforeseen consequences and they couldn't risk that. He hadn't known much about the actual ship and where it was found but Sam was working on that, no doubt figuring out some way to trace the naquadah of the cargo or something like that to pinpoint the wreck's coordinates. After researching all that relevant information he had moved on to their final destination, or at least the one on Earth and where he could find actual information on in books and on the computer.

"Tell me," Dr MacKenzie broke into his musings. "How are you dealing with everything else? Last time you mentioned missing your friends."

"Of course, I still do."

"When was the last time you heard from them?"

"It's been over a month since Colonel O'Neill dropped by my apartment," Daniel replied. Seeing the questioning look from the shrink, he elaborated. "He told me Sam was doing fine and I didn't get the impression he was lying or anything. Frankly, I wasn't surprised to hear they had been in contact seeing how he was already aware of our situation and with his career, well, the Air Force may have decided to let him keep an eye on her. For her own wellbeing, of course," he added.

"Of course."

He suppressed a smile at the dry response and shrugged. "Jack said he'd heard Mitchell was settling into his new life but he wasn't sure if was doing fine in general, you know, and that he was on his way over to him."

"You're not concerned about this… Mitchell? Cameron Mitchell, right?"

"Well, he's a very laidback guy and I don't think there's a lot that fazes him, so I would imagine from the three of us he would have the least problems adjusting. We've only known each other for a few years, when he joined the SGC and before that he was a pilot."

MacKenzie quickly looked back at his notes with a small frown. "Who do you think would have more problems adjusting then, you or Samantha Carter?"

"I'm not sure," he answered truthfully. "Mitchell still has his parents but he didn't have a serious relationship or anything, and most of his buddies are Air Force too but he still had a, eh, life you know. Perhaps I would say he was less jaded. He wasn't really around for the war with the Goa'uld and while his copilot died in their crash and another friend died of a brain aneurysm two years ago, he hasn't really lost that many loved ones during his time at the SGC – or at least not due to the Program. Sam and I are both very focused on science and we'd be the first to admit we don't really have a life outside of our jobs," Daniel paused, thinking of how happy she and Jack had been after finally getting together only to be ripped apart again so soon. It wasn't fair, Jack shouldn't have died and Sam wasn't supposed to go through the grieving process on her own, if she would even allow herself to grieve. "We made a lot of friends and allies in the early years of the Program and have watched a lot of them die at the hands of the Goa'uld or later the Ori."

"I can only imagine how difficult that must have been for you."

"Yes, but throughout it all we always had each other, you know. We were a close team and with the exception of when I was eh, away, for a year Sam and I have never been out of touch for this long. She's one of my best friends, a bond not only because we are both curious scientists with a love for learning and exploring, but also because of the things we've gone through, the friends we have lost. I don't know where Teal'c is and I don't even know if he's still alive, but I do know Sam is here, in the same country and yet I can't see her or even call to hear how she's doing."

MacKenzie was busy scribbling down notes and it took a moment before his gaze lifted again. "This separation anxiety is completely understandable under the circumstances, especially when you're so close with someone-"

"I know," Daniel interrupted, "but that doesn't make it any easier. In a way getting a job would make sure I have other things on my mind and perhaps it would make me worry less. Sam would probably be upset with me for being so concerned about her because she's more than capable of taking care of herself," he added with a wistful grin. He really did miss her.

"That is why I suggested you try and find a hobby a few weeks ago."

He nodded but the idea of getting a hobby was still as strange now as it was then. In a way he had made his hobby his work and for the last decade all his hobbies had been tied to that work but now there was no room for any of that. "Most of my hobbies aren't allowed under the agreement I signed with the Air Force and I can't think of anything else that interests me. You know, these past few years I didn't have as much time for my passions as I would have liked, there was always some bad guy to fight and now that they're gone, so am I and I'm still incapable of doing those things I missed. Cataloging salvaged cargo might actually be one of the few things I would enjoy; after all it's still a bit of history, right?"

"I'm glad to see your spirits seem to have been lifted since we spoke last week," MacKenzie remarked. "If this job offer is responsible, then that might be exactly what you need right now."

"I agree," Daniel said with a small grin. "I just hope the OSI gets back to me in time before someone else has the opportunity to respond and gets hired instead of me…"


	25. Day Sixty Seven of a New Life

**Day 67  
>Liddell Residence<br>Rainier, Washington**

Sam entered her walk-in closet looking for something suitable to wear, dressed in her stockings and lingerie. In less than an hour she was supposed to meet Keith Branson, the retired salvage master in a restaurant in Olympia to discuss her – or Therra's – job offer. To her surprise it had been rather easy to track him down once she'd found his social networking page nearly two weeks ago; not having had much of a personal life for years, Sam wasn't all that familiar with those sites but now that she didn't have a job anymore she had been stunned to see how much personal information people would volunteer to the rest of the world! Keith, as he'd insisted she call him upon meeting him, had made it very easy for her by announcing most of his daily activities on his personal page and when he'd mentioned going to the Olympia Timberland Library on Tuesday, she had seen her chance and went there as well, accidentally bumping into him and making conversation.

It probably would have been easier to simply contact him online via her second laptop or even using the prepaid cell phone she'd bought in Atlantic City but since it would take some convincing to get him to accept the one-time job now that he was retired, she had decided a meeting in person would be best. Of course, she couldn't just go ahead and approach him like she normally would have done so she'd resorted to this plan, knowing her NID tail would follow and by having dinner with him tonight it would probably look like a personal matter rather than a business deal. They would probably think she and Keith would be going on a date or something since they couldn't really ask him what his talk with her was about without revealing themselves as NID and their interest in her.

Now all she needed was a dress that looked good enough for the NID to think she was dressed casually or even fancy but at the same time professional without looking like a business suit. Sam lingered on the dark blue dress she'd worn in Atlantic City but decided against the low neckline that was probably a bit too revealing. Most of her clothes were casual and the few dresses she had were almost all flimsy summer dresses because of her limited monthly allowance, the current weather and her plans to not stay here very long, so in the end she chose the little black dress she'd worn on her first night at the casino, with its non-revealing square neckline and cap sleeves and matching shoes.

She tried to ignore the memories from those days as she put the dress on and when she went back into her bedroom to blow-dry her hair, Sam found her mind wandering to the past week. Colonel O'Neill had dropped by on Sunday evening with a movie and pizza and admittedly, it had been a nice evening. She had a pretty good idea as to why he'd shown up out of the blue on her doorstep if his behavior lately and the attraction between them was any indication. After all, they had been back a week so he'd probably already filed his mission report and got new orders, most likely to get closer to her.

The question was how close? O'Neill hadn't really tried to make a move other than dinner and a movie, which he had tried to be casual about, just two friends watching a movie and eating at the same time. There hadn't been any inappropriate touching or him making a pass at her, but if he was anything like her Jack then he would probably be planning this like it was a mission to infiltrate a Goa'uld stronghold. And she had to admit, at least to herself, that he _was_ very similar to her Jack in many ways. Sitting on the sofa with him, watching a movie and snacking on Frootees… it had reminded her of when Jack would decline an invitation to a soiree to mingle with the bigwigs whenever she was in DC and would claim he had a prior commitment, which was basically just a night in watching a movie together, eating popcorn and Froot Loops ending with the two of them making love – unless they fell asleep from exhaustion first.

Last Sunday it had definitely been the exhaustion setting in and he had dozed off, his head lulling back against the sofa's backrest and he'd snored quietly as the movie played on. It had surprised Sam that he allowed himself such relaxation in her presence, knowing how guilty he still felt about hurting her when she'd woken him up from a nightmare and how wary her own Jack was about falling asleep in unknown surroundings. His weight resting slightly against her and his warmth seeping into her had been achingly familiar though and before she'd realized it she shifted to get more comfortable and let her head rest on his shoulder. She had been tired too and tense, she'd been so damned tense for days wondering what would happen next and when the Colonel would drop by unexpectedly, which of course happened at the worst possible moment as she'd been working on her naquadah detector in her master bathroom.

It had been easy to just close her eyes and let herself forget everything as she lay against his side. It hadn't taken her long to fall asleep and sooner than she'd wanted he woke her up again. God, his face had been so close and his dark eyes almost hypnotizing as he looked at her. His lips had seemed so inviting and without thinking, Sam had licked her own and his breathing had audibly hitched, desire flashing in his eyes and she could have sworn his nostrils flared in that primitive passion she loved so much about her Jack. She knew he had been dangerously close to bridging the distance between them and kissing her but in the end he'd pulled back, nearly escaped as he appeared shocked at his own actions. Moreover, she had been shocked at her own reaction, inching closer to him and then… she wasn't entirely sure but it felt awfully like disappointment when he finally got up to leave.

O'Neill hadn't given a reason as to why he hadn't kissed her or an excuse for almost kissing her; instead he had simply gone back to the base, leaving her behind with her confusion. His actions – or lack thereof – were somewhat contradictive and Sam wondered if his conscious and marriage vows had gotten the best of him in that moment or if she had misjudged his intentions. The heat and desire she'd seen in him on various occasions spoke volumes as to how he felt about her or at least the physical attraction between them. Her experience with the NID over the years and the little trip to an alternate universe last year were enough to give her an idea of what the organization and the United States government could be capable of doing if they felt threatened, so she wouldn't put it past them to give O'Neill certain unethical orders to get closer to her.

As a matter of fact, considering the freedom – albeit somewhat limited – they had given her she would have been surprised if they hadn't taken extra measures to try and sway her somehow and taking into account how her and Jack O'Neill's paths always seemed to cross one way or another in any reality it made sense to give him that assignment. After all, they had already met on the ice when Daniel, Cam and she had first arrived here and their reactions towards him made it pretty clear they were familiar with his counterpart even if she hadn't mentioned him briefly in one of her interviews. So this O'Neill was qualified for such an assignment in more ways than one; his skills, her familiarity with the other him and the fact that he was already in the know about her existence and origin from the start. The NID had just gotten lucky that he also happened to be the counterpart of her dead husband…

Sam sighed, running a hand through her hair and putting the blow dryer away. Just a touch of makeup to work on the dark circles under her eyes and maybe a hint of mascara and lipstick, and she'd be ready to go! She reached for the cosmetics and got started, her mind unable to stop thinking about Colonel O'Neill. It was possible he hadn't kissed her _yet _because he didn't want to skip any steps in his plans to seduce her, she mused. Unless it was a life and death situation Jack had never rushed any of his plans and was able to exert a tremendous amount of patience, which was rather uncharacteristic for him in everyday life; it made sense for the Colonel to think along the same lines.

The problem was that it left her wary and almost waiting in suspense for something to happen. Sam knew herself well enough to know she liked to be apprised of thing, be in the know when she was involved in a situation instead of being left in the dark and trying to figure out what the hell was going on. It had been hell when Jack had gone undercover all those years ago to find the rogue NID members that were stealing alien technology; deep down she'd known something was up because of his strange behavior but she'd been unable to figure it out on her own. For as long as she could remember people – her parents, teachers, family members – had been telling her she had an inquisitive mind and combined with her competitive streak it meant she liked to be aware of whatever was going on and preferably be at least one step ahead of everyone else.

Now she found herself in this alternate timeline, without her friends for the time being and preparing to restore whatever Ba'al had done in the past in a way that was accessible to her. With her advanced knowledge of alien technology and physics and what some might call insider information of people's counterparts as well as certain events that had happened in her timeline but not yet here, it was more likely than not that Sam was already several steps ahead of everyone here. The only thing complicating matters was Colonel O'Neill and his ever-present company. If she wasn't careful he could ruin everything for her – Daniel, Cam and basically all of mankind if Ba'al got here – and that was something she couldn't afford. What was even worse was that she might need his help for the final stages of her plan, so him not being around wouldn't work either.

Not that she thought he'd be willing to cooperate with her, not even if she would explain everything to him because she just knew he'd do whatever he had to to keep his son safe, even if there was a possibility Ba'al might enslave or kill everyone. O'Neill's mere presence in her life and his tentative flirting with her was proof enough of that, knowing he was still married despite his lies; she didn't like to think she had misjudged him so or that there was a version of Jack out there who didn't think twice about his vows, even if she knew that was a very real possibility with an infinite number of ever-growing alternate realities. Also, if Sam were honest, she didn't think she had the right to ask him to even consider helping her change this timeline, knowing the personal cost for him. She didn't think she'd be able to do so if it meant Cassie were to be wiped out of existence. It wasn't a choice that could be made and that was precisely why she wasn't going to ask.

* * *

><p><strong>1934 hours<br>McChord AFB  
>Lakewood, Washington<strong>

Jack was idly doodling on his notepad as Simmons was rambling on about the job Jackson wanted to get. He had no idea why he'd even been called to this meeting considering Sam was supposed to be his charge, not Jackson or that Mitchell guy. But apparently his input was required so here he was with his CO, General Hammond and Colonel Frank Simmons from the NID. Luckily Hank and General Kennedy seemed to be otherwise occupied and last he'd heard about Maybourne was that the rat bastard was flying to Kansas to rendezvous with Mitchell's OSI handlers to check in on the flyboy and would then move onto New York to check out Jackson's situation.

Either way, he was bored with Simmons basically reading Doctor MacKenzie's report aloud after already having gone through the initial assessment from the OSI. Of course, being Intelligence the NID didn't fully trust the OSI to do their job right – Jack had refrained from pointing out all the recent mistakes of Simmons' men – and had to weigh in on the decision as well, doing their own research into this company before hopefully coming to a conclusion as to whether or not the archeologist could apply for a job there.

With any luck the position was already filled by now and further discussion would be unnecessary, he thought to himself. It wasn't that he begrudged the man a job, it was probably a good idea considering the depressing mood in his apartment the one time Jack visited there. He was just bored and he hated evening meetings; he had to eat commissary food to be on time and it hadn't tasted very well, not even the cake for dessert had made up for it.

"… it is therefore Doctor MacKenzie's opinion that-"

"So," Jack rudely interrupted Simmons. "Jackson wants a job, right? MacKenzie says he's fit enough and mentally able to deal with this, so what's the hold up? Why are we even discussing this? I thought we had handed Jackson over to the OSI for exactly these kinds of situations."

"Colonel O'Neill," the NID operative said impatiently, "if you would just hear me out…"

General Hammond cleared his throat as the other colonel sighed in exasperation and waited until both of them were looking at him. "Please, Colonel Simmons, just get to the point. I would like to be able to take my wife over to see our grandchildren tonight before it's too late."

"Very well, if you insist General," Simmons replied in a haughty tone bordering on disrespect. "Doctor MacKenzie thinks this would be a good idea. It would probably pull Jackson out of his social isolation and might make him find more enjoyment in our, eh, world."

"And the OSI?"

"The OSI agree with that assessment, General…"

Jack narrowed his eyes at that delivery, wondering what the guy wasn't telling them. "Where was the job again?"

"A salvaging company, Colonel."

"Of… ships?" He questioned, with a slight frown. When the other colonel nodded in confirmation, he tried to picture it. "Doing what? I doubt he can be of much help aboard and with just one leg and a half he's probably not much use diving either."

"I think it's an administrative function, son," Hammond spoke as he browsed through the NID file they had both been given.

Jack nodded and decided to forget about his doodle for a moment and checked out the file, while Simmons continued on with his explanation as if either he or Hammond was paying attention. It was something about the alias and his credentials that they'd given Jackson, but he was somewhat aware of those as he'd been responsible for that excellent name and he'd read through his file before his surprise visit to New York City and Kansas a couple of weeks ago. "Where did he find this… J.S. Salvaging Inc?"

"Actually, they found him. More or less. You see, his OSI handlers had advised him to set up an account on an employment website, with Charles Dodgson's credentials," Simmons replied. "There was no intent on his part."

"Hmm, then why haven't you approved? Or better yet, why are you bringing this to our attention, Colonel Simmons?"

The man shrugged indifferently at Hammond's question. "These are important people and we prefer to tread cautiously when it comes to either Jackson or Carter."

"And they have no problems with a disabled man?" Jack inquired, barely glancing up from the file as he thumbed through it. When all he got in return was a shake of the head, he looked at the job description. "Cataloging artifacts… is that safe? I mean, we have no idea what kind of stuff this company deals with. For all we know this is some elaborate setup for Jackson to get access to something at the company, or maybe certain equipment or salvaged cargo. Not to mention Jackson's own specialty in archeology, his or his counterpart's."

"Remember, Colonel O'Neill, this company merely placed an advertisement that happened to trigger Jackson's preferences on the website. We made sure of that and checked his computer logs and online access-"

"Right, because your people are so good at what they do," he mocked dryly.

Simmons huffed as he plopped down in his chair, apparently finally realizing neither Hammond or Jack himself were interested in a presentation. "As a matter of fact, we had General Hammond's specialist install the same software on Jackson's computer as we did on Carter's and their activities are screened once a week."

"That eh, Folger, guy?" Jack muttered, trying to recall the geeky scientist from two months ago.

"Doctor Felger and his Avenger Program, Colonels," Hammond reminded them.

"Fine, whatever," he muttered.

"There are no conflicts with the other Daniel Jackson from our timeline if Mr Jackson takes this job?"

Simmons shook his head. "No, General, we don't think there would be any problems with that. Doctor Jackson has been ridiculed out of the academic world and is spending his days in Egypt. We doubt any of the professionals at the company, even the archeologists specialized in salvaging, would see the resemblance or even remember the whack-job for that matter."

"So, what do we know about this company? Why are they even looking for new people?" Jack asked, still suspicious. He couldn't help it, he thought as he took a sip of water. It was just in his nature and it seemed a bit convenient for this Jackson guy to find a job he liked. These days it was hard enough for most people to keep their job or get a new one, but to find one someone actually liked at exactly the right time? Not to mention the guy's disability. Just as he was starting to get better and indicating he wanted a job, this offer magically appears.

"It's new, but it's all above board, Colonel O'Neill," Simmons replied curtly.

"You looked into that?" It was more of a rhetorical question considering the report in front of him. "What does 'Joma Secu' mean?"

"Colonel?" Hammond questioned, seemingly peeking at the page he was looking at before paging through his own report.

The NID operative squirmed a bit, apparently losing some of his confidence. "We, eh, don't know."

"I thought you'd looked into it?" He couldn't help but say.

"We have," the man replied defensively. "Our specialists couldn't find any reference to it in English or otherwise, although we were of course limited in our search because of the short amount of time we have. However, it's highly improbable to have a significant meaning."

Well, that was a load of crap, Jack thought. It sounded like Simmons was just trying to cover his ass and it made him wonder if he'd actually looked into it as he claimed. "And this… Carlin-person? What kind of name is that anyway?"

"We ran a background check on Ms Carlin, it's included in the file and accompanied by what the OSI found on her."

"That all seems to be in order," Hammond muttered as he flipped to the back of the folder. "A bit thin perhaps…"

Jack raised a brow at the documentation, his eyes skimming the academic background that even had mentions of the schools she had attended as a child. "Nothing more recent?"

"We're still looking into that," Simmons replied, "but she appears to check out."

Not having seen anything money-related in the entire folder he looked up. "How is it financed?"

"An off-shore account."

"And that's not suspicious?"

"Colonel O'Neill, in this economy it doesn't surprise me. Besides, there are plenty of people working in marine salvaging that have been involved in locating treasures and they often choose for off-shore accounting because of more lucrative deals when it comes to those amounts of money."

"Treasures? Cool," Jack smirked. "I thought marine salvaging was more about towing, refloating a sunken or grounded vessel, or patching or repairing a ship. You know, the boring stuff, like when there's an oil spill or some other precious cargo leaking from a sinking ship."

Hammond chuckled softly and closed his folder. "Well, if you and your superiors think this job is okay for Mister Jackson then I will sign off on it as well, Colonel Simmons."

"Thank you, General Hammond."

"Where did you say that company was again?" Jack asked, still not entirely convinced. There was just something off about this, or so his gut was telling him. Over the years he'd learned to trust his instincts and in this situation he simply couldn't afford to make any mistakes, not if the end result meant 'fixing' the timeline. Not when that also meant Tyler being erased from not only existence but also his memory, or perhaps he himself would turn into a new counterpart and… argh, it was too confusing! He hated science fiction.

Simmons rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh, clearly annoyed with Jack taking so long and asking too many questions. "A little over an hour from Jackson's apartment. Part of the Air Force's agreement with him was arranged transport so he wouldn't really have to worry about driving a car or taking the subway for a job or other trips."

"It's in New York?"

"Trenton, New Jersey, but that shouldn't be a problem."

He frowned, wondering if he'd heard that correctly. "You mean Trenton, that city where your NID agents lost Samantha Carter? That one?"

"They didn't _lose_ her, Colonel O'Neill, they-"

"Oh right," Jack sneered, "they merely lost sight of her for over an hour!"

"These two events are completely unrelated, General Hammond, I assure you," Simmons ignored him and turned to the three-star General, who had the final say in this matter.

Hammond seemed pensive, glancing between the two of them as if trying to make up his mind. "It does seem unlikely Ms Carter has anything to do with this… she might be a genius, but I doubt even she would be able to set up a company like this in an hour, Colonel O'Neill. Besides, to what purpose would she involve herself with marine salvaging?"

"Oh, come on!" Jack nearly whined, added a belated "Sir".

"Do you have any idea how big Trenton is, Colonel O'Neill?" Simmons asked, looking slightly peeved. "It's over eight thousand square miles and has a population of about eighty-five thousand."

"So you're saying this is just a coincident? That about a week after she went off the grid for an hour Jackson receives a job offer in that very same town?"

General Hammond cleared his throat, sounding much like a referee between the two of them. "Colonels, please. I agree with you, Jack, that it seems very coincidental but at the same time you have to ask yourself what she would possibly gain by this. How could she even know Jackson's location or his identity? Besides, for all we know Ms Carter never even left that observatory."

"I must agree with you, General," Simmons said haughtily, briefly glaring at Jack. "There is no way for her to have anything to do with this without us knowing, let alone be able to find out any information on Jackson or Mitchell. Besides, what would she or Jackson gain by working with a salvaging company? It's not as if a private company can just enter the blocked off area of the Arctic Ocean the Navy is searching for this Stargate and what other reason could they have? I'm afraid you're letting your imagination run wild, Colonel O'Neill. Or perhaps you're getting too close to Carter…"

"Huh, I thought that was what you wanted, Simmons," Jack huffed, annoyed with being dismissed so easily.

"Gentlemen," Hammond's voice rang out in warning, but before he could say more the door to their conference room was opened and a pissed off Hank Landry stepped in, followed by an equally peeved looking General Kennedy. "General Kennedy, Hank," the three-star greeted them warily. "I was under the impression you had other business to attend?"

The two men grumbled something that didn't even come close to a respectful greeting in Jack's opinion and his standards were pretty low when it came to such things, but he did kind of like Hammond unlike the other goons he was forced to work with on this assignment.

"We were attending to other matters until one of General Kennedy's men gave us an update on Ms Carter's whereabouts," Hank told the Lieutenant General, before turning to him. "Jack, what exactly did you do on Sunday?"

"What do you mean, 'what did I do'?" Jack parroted, annoyed. "I submitted a report." It wasn't a real report but more of a progress update, which he'd kept vague since he was highly uncomfortable discussing things of any personal nature but especially this one. He'd mentioned them watching the movie and eating pizza and a growing closeness between them, but he'd neglected to share the almost-kiss he had pulled back from. Forgetting to take that darn DVD with him as he'd escaped Sam's house had been another thing he'd kept to himself.

Unfortunately he'd been forced to go get it, so the next day he'd dropped by during lunch, hoping that it would be less awkward that way. It wasn't. She had been busy in the house and since the garage door was open he'd walked in and found her in what had once been a storage room at the back of the garage, but she'd changed it into a personal gym. He had known that but he hadn't actually seen her use it up until that day, when she was all sweaty and kicking the living daylights out of a punching bag. It had been extremely awkward, with her seemingly shy and him disturbingly aroused by the picture she made and the attractive flush on her face. He had barely retrieved the DVD before he'd stuffed his tuna sandwich in his mouth and took off again.

"Yes, it seemed as if you were making headway, Colonel," Kennedy added.

"Yes Sir," he muttered, scowling at the two men who were supposedly superior to him – in rank only, obviously.

"Then do you mind explaining to us why Samantha Carter is enjoying a fine meal with a glass of wine in a fancy restaurant, all dressed up with another man, Jack?" Hank questioned, his caterpillar-like eyebrows shooting up. "Well?"

Surprised, he only managed to open his mouth but no sound came out. She was on a date with someone? "Who?"

"Does it matter, Colonel?" Kennedy replied, glaring at him. "She seemed to be enjoying herself with this man according to my people and yet you reported making progress with her regarding your assignment."

"Well, she never mentioned anything to me," Jack muttered, frowning to himself. There really hadn't been any indication as far as he was aware. In a way he should probably be happy about this development, Jack thought. But when he looked around the room and saw the dark facial expressions on the other men – well, except for Hammond, who just seemed upset – he realized this wasn't good news at all. Not for him but also not for Sam and whoever her friend was. From the beginning it had been made perfectly clear what was expected of him and using a romantic relationship had been the NID's way to keep Sam under their thumb in the only way they could, to make her more willing to what they wanted. But what would they do if Sam got involved with someone they couldn't control? Someone over whom they had no emotional hold? Would they get rid of that man if they couldn't find anything to blackmail him into doing what they wanted? And what would happen to Sam or to himself? Tyler?

Hank squinted at him, as if he was gauging whether to believe him before apparently reaching a decision. "It doesn't really matter anyway. At least now we know she's… receptive, to a romantic relationship of some kind."

"Who is this other man?" Hammond inquired quietly.

"He's in his mid-fifties, Caucasian, about six foot-" Hank was telling them, when Kennedy stopped him with a hand on his arm.

Peering at his cell phone, General Kennedy took over. "Apparently it concerns a retired widower, named Keith Branson. It seems they met in a library a couple of days ago," he explained, apparently just getting this new information.

"This is where you have to step up Jack; you better do some damage control here and close the deal soon before she runs off with this other guy," Hank added.

"Go son, we were about done here anyway," General Hammond dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

Jack nodded and quickly made his way out of the room. Now what? Obviously they expected him to right this but how? It wasn't like he could just go over to Sam and demand she stop seeing this guy. When did she have time to meet someone else? A man apparently close to his own age; he wasn't sure if that was comforting or not. After all, he already knew she was attracted to him. Making a decision, Jack walked over to his personal quarters.

* * *

><p><strong>2015 hours<br>Liddell Residence  
>Rainier, Washington<strong>

Jack was sitting on the steps leading up to Sam's door, waiting for her to come home. It was getting cold out and he was glad he'd detoured to his quarters to get his coat because he had no idea how long she would be. He got a sickening feeling in his stomach at the idea of her _not_ coming home, not tonight. Surely Sam wouldn't… would she? He liked to think he'd gotten to know her – the person not her knowledge or all her experiences – pretty well during their road trip and he really didn't think she was the kind of woman to spend the night with someone she had just met.

Sighing, he thought back to the meeting he'd just left and reached into his pocket for his phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he had found the name of someone he'd used to work with, but who had retired from the service and was instead working for the FBI right now. There was just something off about this Trenton thing and that file about that woman was too flimsy. Everything important was there, with the exception of the last few years but it was too… he didn't know, there was just something he couldn't put his finger on. Dialing, he waited until the phone was answered.

"_Farrity_."

"O'Neill here," he replied curtly.

"_Wow buddy, it's been a while!"_

Jack cringed at the reply and was reminded of the reason they'd never really gotten along all that much. "Yeah… hey, remember that time I saved your ass? I need you to repay the favor."

"_Sure thing, name it!"_

"I need you to look into something for me… it's a company in Trenton, New Jersey. Marine salvaging, apparently. It's called J.S. Salvaging Inc and I want to know what they're up to."

"_Hmm, okay. I'll look into it. Might be a while before I have everything. How urgent is it, buddy?"_

Jack hedged, unsure if it was worth rushing but at the same time it would be best for him to find out if something was wrong as soon as possible. "A week? I just need the highlights, I'm not interested in the fine print."

"_I can do that. Anything else?"_

It was almost too easy, he thought to himself. Ah well, at least the guy came in handy now even if he hadn't been all that useful way back when. "It's owned by a woman, Therra Carlin if I'm not mistaken. Her paper trail is too… perfect. You know the deal, everything from day she was born until she graduates college and then some, but the specific school records aren't accessible because they're either stored in some warehouse and not on a computer or the school conveniently burned down and there's nothing left."

"_That might take some more digging, buddy."_

"That's okay," Jack replied through clenched teeth. "Look into how she financed that company too, okay? And I need a good picture of her, the one I was given is blurry and could be anyone."

Farrity was quiet for a moment but the sound of pencil on paper was clear through the line as he apparently made notes. "_Want me to flag her in the system?"_

"Sure, thanks. O'Neill out," he replied, immediately disconnecting the call. Now if the woman was using her ID or passport to travel then Farrity would know and so would Jack. If the NID weren't going to take him seriously then he would just have to some digging of his own. Well, have someone else do it for him mostly, but that was beside the point.

Jack was just about to get up to stretch his legs when a cab pulled up the curb. An unexpected wave of relief washed over him when Sam paid the driver and got out, alone. Christ, this was getting ridiculous, he thought to himself. "Hi."

"Colonel," she looked surprised, "what are you doing here?"

Getting up, he moved aside so she could pass. "You look nice."

Sam blushed as she dug around in her purse. "Um, thanks. It's the same dress from Atlantic City-"

"I know," he interrupted her with a small smile, giving her another appreciate onceover. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No," she shook her head and unlocked the door. "I was just, eh, out."

Jack followed her inside and closed the door behind him. "On a date?" He tried to ignore the rush of emotion going through him and denied to acknowledge it was jealousy – he was merely pissed off that she was endangering herself and this other guy with her reckless behavior, as well as him and his son – when she gnawed her lip. "Sam?"

"Dinner, with… a friend."

"A male friend?"

Sam leaned back against the wall, giving him a curious glance. "I don't see how that is any of your business, Colonel."

"Just… trying to make conversation."

"Really?"

"Really," he affirmed, taking a step closer. "I didn't know you were dating."

An elegant eyebrow rose and the corners of her mouth quirked up in silent amusement. "I didn't say I was."

"Oh, c'mon Sam," he cajoled, waving his hand at her outfit, "why else are you all dressed up, hm?"

"Can't a woman just have dinner with a male friend?" She asked, with a small smile.

"Looking like this? That's one lucky friend."

"I think you're reading too much into this, Colonel."

Her words were spoken softly but Jack got the impression she was enjoying herself instead of actually being annoyed with his questions. "A beautiful woman like you dressed up like this doesn't just have dinner with a male friend."

Sam pushed herself further back into the wall when he took another step closer and he could see her pupils dilating at this distance. "We've had dinner together on several occasions, once when I was wearing this exact dress."

"I know," he retorted with a smirk, briefly brushing his hand against her side. "That's my point."

"Really?"

Grinning, he replied to her slightly breathless question. "Really." Jack could see her swallow convulsively as he tried to convince himself this was a good idea. The NID was pressuring him into stepping up his game here but he had no idea if it was the right move. Sam could be so difficult to read sometimes but now he could clearly see the amusement and, dare he say it, arousal in her eyes. "You're a smart girl, Sam," he murmured, leaning closer.

"So I've been told."

Jack could feel her exhale against his chin as he looked into her dark blue orbs. His eyes briefly flicked down to her full lips before darting back up and holding her gaze. "Why didn't you tell me you wanted to… date," he asked, silently wondering if that was the right thing to ask. It wasn't like he had expected her to turn to him or something, or that he wanted to offer himself to her even though that was more or less what he'd been told to do. His heart sped up when the tip of her tongue peeped out to wet her lips, his gaze automatically following the movement.

Before he could close the distance between them though and capture her mouth, her hand came up to rest in the nape of his neck and she pulled him down, their lips crashing together in a wild, unexpected kiss. Hers moved smoothly and wetly against his, her tongue tasting them insistently until he opened his mouth and it slipped in. God, the taste of her exploded on his tongue as she pressed herself closer against him. Completely caught off guard Jack just went with it, following her example. Their tongues tangled together, dueling until she surrendered and explored the rest of his mouth.

A soft moan sounded between the two of them as their kiss intensified and he pushed her against the wall with his weight. Jack was just exploring her mouth, touching her soft gums before sliding down her sharp teeth and finding her tongue again when she pulled away. Dazed, he blinked a few times until she came into focus. "Wha-"

"I figured showing you might be better," Sam replied breathlessly.


	26. Day Sixty Nine of a New Life

**Day 69  
>Liddell Residence<br>Rainier, Washington**

Sam shifted on the towel she was sitting on, trying to get a bit more comfortable. A glance at her watch told her she only had five minutes left before she would have to abandon her homemade naquadah detector to avoid rousing suspicion with the NID and OSI, who were undoubtedly still checking out her daily habits via the surveillance equipment that had been planted in her house. Holing herself up in the bathroom to work on her doohickey had seemed like the best way to create and modify it since there were no bugs here. Plus, with the tub full of water and scented oils it smelled really nice too. It was just a bit warm at times and sitting on the cold tiled floor wasn't really comfortable either.

She felt bad over wasting so much water but she couldn't be too careful; it was possible the NID and OSI were keeping tabs on her use of water, electricity and gas. So early on she had established her bathroom routine to make it look credible in case anyone was watching. Instead of actually taking a bath Sam had just taken a quick shower after another workout in her little home gym. She had thought about leaving the shower on to mask her activities but that would probably be more of a waste than the bath and knowing she was a military brat who'd joined the military herself, it was unlikely anyone would believe she took such long showers. In the end she had decided there was no reason for her to feel guilty about the waste of water considering her plans to restore the timeline.

The device she was making was almost done, probably another day or two with her restricted schedule but the detector itself was rather simple and easy to make. The hard part would be writing the computer program needed to adjust sensitivity and other factors that would play a role in detecting the naquadah in the shipwreck over two hundred feet below the water surface. A proper interface would also be needed to hook the makeshift UTD up to the computer equipment aboard the salvaging ship. The detector itself was only necessary to perform her tests here for lack of more sophisticated equipment so she would have to compensate for the crappy tech as well. The final step would require actual naquadah to make sure everything is working properly.

The empty vials from the fragrance oils she'd used in the bath would come in handy later to hold some of her blood when testing the gadget's sensitivity. Those little sample vials for perfume had been her first option before she realized it might alert Colonel O'Neill if she had a lot of those lying around, considering she never wore perfume and he had probably noticed that at one point. She also wasn't sure how much blood she would actually need to get enough detectable naquadah since she didn't have any medical equipment here so it would more or less come down to guess work, which she avoided completely when doing one of her experiments but this time it was necessary; after all, she couldn't afford to get caught buying needles and other equipment. Or to have someone like O'Neill notice needle marks on her arms.

Sam startled when her watch's alarm beeped and reluctantly started to clear away any evidence of her activities. After her quick shower she'd pulled on a top and shorts, more suitable for nightwear than actual clothes especially when she was expecting company so she got up and headed for her walk-in closet. Colonel O'Neill was coming over and she wasn't entirely sure what to wear, do or how to act after their parting two nights ago. She hadn't really thought this far ahead and her kiss had been somewhat spontaneous. Not just because she got caught up in the moment, no she _had_ thought it through at that time and knew that he wouldn't expect her to do something so… bold.

Kissing him when he'd seemed to struggle with whether to follow through on his flirting had been the perfect opportunity for Sam to take back control. His momentary freeze before opening his mouth and kissing her back proved he'd been caught off guard and she knew that by throwing him off-balance she was once again a step ahead of him. His response made it pretty clear kissing her – and probably more – was exactly part of his agenda but for some reason he had hesitated to take the step. She had taken that choice from him and now he would be the one in suspense, warily awaiting her next move.

O'Neill had appeared to acknowledge that she was back in charge when it came to this… thing, this recent dance between them by letting her make the choices and set the pace. After the passionate kisses they had exchanged she had pulled back and they had both tried to catch their breath and regain some control. It was clear she hadn't been the only one affected from his dazed look, heavy breathing and the way he had pressed his body against hers. Despite the haze Sam had experienced since tasting his lips she'd been able to pull her wits about her and after one more soft kiss, she'd pushed him towards the door. With a cheeky grin she has basically escorted him out of the house, a befuddled expression on his face but he hadn't protested and slowly made his way to his car.

She had quickly darted into her bathroom, sliding down the door with his taste still lingering in her mouth. The intimate caresses of his tongue against hers, tracing her lips and exploring her mouth had been overwhelming. With her eyes closed her other senses had almost caused an overload to her brain and all she had been able to think about when sitting on that tiled floor leaning against the door was that he tasted, smelled and felt like her Jack. She had no idea how long they had kissed but it couldn't have been for more than ten minutes and during that time she'd experienced a little bit of heaven.

To wax poetically wasn't like Sam but she didn't know how else to describe it; for that brief moment she had been able to forget her husband was dead because, with her eyes closed, they were one and the same. It wasn't something she had expected despite knowing her Jack and Colonel O'Neill shared many similarities, character-wise but also physically and maybe she should have. Perhaps it had been somewhat naïve of her to think she could just kiss the Colonel and not find herself lost in kissing Jack O'Neill. She was well aware of her inability to deal with certain emotional issues and now, in retrospect, she thought it was more than likely she hadn't allowed herself to contemplate it, already knowing the outcome after recognizing the attraction she felt towards him.

Now, she couldn't really take it back. A part of her didn't want to, either. It was the same part that still longed for Jack, a piece of her that refused to deal with his death and wouldn't grieve for him. The one that missed his arms around her at night even though it had been months before her arrival in this timeline that they had shared a bed with him in DC and her in the Pegasus Galaxy. Sam was determined to treat this… little stint, in this timeline the same way as she had the months between leaves on Atlantis; as a temporary situation.

At the same time she knew it wasn't that simple since there was Jack's counterpart here to deal with. Someone who, perhaps not out to get her but certainly intent on thwarting any attempt by her to restore the timeline. Leaving Alice's life behind her before it was time wasn't an option either; while it would allow her to work more on things like the naquadah detector and thereby be finished sooner, it would also mean the OSI, NID and Air Force and whatever other organization they could get at their disposal would be chasing her.

They would go after Daniel who, if she were honest, would only slow her down with his prosthetic leg if they had to be on the run. Cam would be able to keep up with her but they could easily get their hands on him, Daniel or herself before they would be able to meet up with all the technology – cameras on every street corner, facial recognition software, passport controls etcetera – at the government's disposal. Plus, she might need Colonel O'Neill for the final stages of her plan and being on the run with every imaginable organization after her wouldn't really give her the chance to abduct him or something like that.

So, Sam had decided early on in this new life, she would just have to keep Colonel O'Neill close and ensure he stays in the dark about her plans. If cooperating with his probable assignment – seducing her – would keep him from digging too deep meant she could have some blissful moments, or perhaps nights, of oblivion then was that so wrong? It probably wasn't fair to him or Sara but Sam wasn't the one married to her and willing to do whatever the brass ordered to keep her in check. It certainly wasn't the right thing to do to her Jack, but then so wasn't him dying. Life, she had learned early on, simply wasn't fair at all. She couldn't change the cards she'd been dealt, just how she played them and right now she would do whatever necessary to restore the timeline. This was one mission she couldn't fail and she was well aware there would be fallout, but she would deal with those consequences once she was back in her own timeline.

* * *

><p><strong>J.S. Salvaging Inc, HQ<br>Trenton, New Jersey**

Daniel smiled as Melinda Warren, 'Therra's' assistant, showed him around the building. He had gotten the okay from his handlers two days ago, late at night and he'd immediately responded to the job offer online. Surprisingly he'd gotten a response the next day asking him to come by for an interview. It was less shocking that his interview just now had gone down perfectly as he was well aware of what kind of person they were looking for. He made the appropriate noises as Melinda showed him the department he would be working at and he was pleased to see Sam had made sure to reserve a private office larger than his lab at the SGC for him.

"… where you will be working," Melinda said with a smile as they entered the room.

"It looks great," he commented, his hand sliding down the large workbench and his eyes darting around the shelves adorning the walls appreciatively.

She seemed exceptionally pleased with the compliment and pointed out some equipment as well as an empty desk. "Not all the equipment has arrived yet but you will of course have everything you need and I've been told the IT department will set up a computer later this week."

"Well, it's not like there's any rush as long as there's no shipwreck yet." She chuckled softly and Daniel could understand why Sam had chosen her for this job; she was a people's person but also very organized, he could tell that just from the tour they'd taken through the building considering how long the company had been renting this space. He briefly wondered if Sam had seen the same organizational skills as Walter in the young woman.

"As I've told you before you will only need to work part-time and can basically come and go whenever you want provided that you're on schedule with cataloging and are here a certain amount of hours a week…"

Daniel nodded as she went into detail about his new job while he sat down on the comfortable chair at his new desk. It had been easy to get the job and he figured that had mostly to do with 'Therra' and her instructions but it was also possible he was the only one who'd responded to the job offer so far, or the most qualified. He didn't really care about the reasoning behind it because he was here for a specific purpose. In her latest communication Sam had mentioned she would make sure he'd get his hands on an untraceable prepaid cell phone so he could call her whenever there was an update or if he'd found the artifacts they were looking for.

The sooner the better because he couldn't wait to get back to their timeline and leave this nightmare behind. The only thing that slightly worried him was his leg, or what was left of it. He knew what Sam's plan was but he also knew they didn't have any real experience with this and that it was mostly guesswork even for her. Granted, she _was_ a theoretical astrophysicist and she had an amazing track record doing the impossible, theorizing what could be done with an amazing intuition when they were in an unknown situation with limited knowledge. Still, if everything went down as she planned there was a good chance he'd be stuck with his prosthetic limb even after fixing the timeline.

He had meant it when he said losing a limb wasn't that horrible in the grand scheme of things, especially considering he was supposed to die – for real this time – out on the ice in Antarctica but it had been much easier to accept the loss, struggle through his PT and learn to live with the prosthetic knowing he had a goal, a mission to undo whatever it was Ba'al had done. The thought this was merely temporary had fleeted through his mind on occasion but he also knew there was a really good chance he would stay the same physically if Sam's plan succeeded. His expectation was that whenever it happened he would probably have adjusted to his prosthetic just fine, but what would happen once they were back where they belonged?

The loss of his leg wasn't really an issue, he could live with that but it was painfully clear he wouldn't be able to go out into the field. While he wouldn't miss getting shot at on a daily basis and seeing all the death and destruction he had come to associate with his life at the SGC, he also wasn't quite sure where he would fit in now. Even before he had been recruited into the Program 'the field' had been part of his job, something he loved with a passion. Only back then it had been archeological digs and, every now and then, he would join one of the SGC teams to do one off-world. That too would be out of the question.

Perhaps he would finally be able to focus solely on his 'lab' work at the SGC by examining alien artifacts, cultures and languages. Still, after a decade of adventures out there he wasn't sure he would be able to adapt to a life stuck in the labs. He could do more research and have more time for the things he usually had to hand over to others to continue but it wasn't the same. They would probably ask him to take on more of a teaching role to new recruits and civilian scientists in his areas of expertise, perhaps continue working on the off-world lexicons they were creating for all the known alien languages they had encountered so far and maybe make some more tutorial videos about the Stargate and its Program for new employees.

Not being able to go out into the field was going to be difficult though. At least now, here in this life, he had something important to work towards. He finally understood why Jack had been so reluctant to take the promotion to base commander since it also meant going into the field was out of the question now, but at least Jack would still have both his legs if Sam's plan worked; he could still go out on occasion, those few times he would indulge himself and totally abuse his power to go on a little trip off-world. Daniel sighed… Going to Atlantis was really out now, too.

* * *

><p><strong>Liddell Residence<br>Rainier, Washington**

Jack anxiously made his way up the steps of Sam's house, silently wondering why the hell he was so nervous. Oh yeah, because they'd made out like a bunch of horny teenagers on the other side of that door just two days ago. Well, if he was honest it hadn't been _exactly_ like that considering how clumsy and inexperienced he'd been all those years ago when he'd actually been a teenager. This had been far more wild and yet somehow controlled all at the same time. Explosive and passionate came to mind and the arousal that had jolted through his body at the intimate contact definitely wasn't comparable to anything he'd felt back then, certainly not from just a kiss.

It had bothered him the moment he came down from the high and he was almost grateful that Sam had more or less kicked him out after a few minutes. Her unexpected behavior had thrown him for a loop and the moment her lips had touched his he'd felt any control he'd had over the situation slip away. Now he wasn't sure what to expect. He knew what his superiors wanted from him, but Sam? He didn't have a clue. In the heat of the moment they'd both acted impulsively, welcoming the intimate caresses and pressing their bodies against each other in desire but the moment they took a breather he'd seen she was just as stunned with the whole thing as he was, even though she had initiated it!

That night the drive back to the base hadn't been nearly enough to calm his body and curb the desire he felt for her but Jack knew he would have only hated himself in the morning if they had done more than kissing. At least Sam had been able to think somewhat clearly after the oxygen deprivation they'd suffered and send him on his way. Still, he'd hardly been able to catch some sleep that night, his mind revisiting that moment in her hallway over and over. Sara had been on his mind, thinking of her had held him back from actually kissing Sam before she'd taken the decision out of his hands. The guilt about his actions and, perhaps more importantly, the accompanying feelings were still very much present and he'd been close to telling Hammond and the NID to shove the assignment up their ass.

Of course he hadn't done any such thing. Tyler and Sara had popped into his head and Jackson's words from aboard the submarine had reverberated in his mind as he had told him his son had shot and killed himself as a child in that matter-of-fact tone of his. It would be a lie though to say there hadn't been a fleeting thought or two about Sam there as well. If he quit his assignment he wouldn't be able to see her anymore and while that realization didn't sit too well with him, Jack was honest enough to admit that to himself even if it sickened him a bit deep down. Of all the things that could possibly happen in life this hadn't been one that had ever crossed his mind. Hell, he'd never thought another woman could intrigue him so and cheating on his wife had never really occurred to him. Until now.

What made this assignment worse was that he had a reason for seducing Sam, one that some people would probably find acceptable if they knew about the circumstances. His family disappearing if the timeline was altered was something most people would find horrifying, with good reason. Knowing his life would turn into that of a man whose young son had shot and killed himself with _his_ weapon was simply unacceptable to him. Tyler was the best thing that had ever happened to him and there was no way he would be erased from existence if it was up to Jack. But it would probably be all that much easier if he _didn't_ have a reason to seduce Sam and would simply be a bastard with no conscience. Because, God help him, he liked her, he enjoyed spending time with her and that kiss… holy crap, he couldn't recall the last time a kiss had that effect on him. He was enjoying this assignment far too much and he didn't want to…

Blowing out a deep breath, he tried the doorknob and to his surprise the front door opened. He peered into the living room and, not seeing anyone, entered the house, closing the door behind him. Shrugging off his jacket and stuffing his sunglasses into its pocket, he walked further inside. "Sam?"

Wary and somewhat anxious about his visit already he strode into the living room, checked the kitchen and dining room to see if maybe Sam was there before peeking out the backdoor but there was no sign of her. Oh god, he hoped she wasn't working out again and kicking the crap out of that bag because his senses were already on alert and seeing her in that sweaty, clingy outfit might just send him over the edge. Baby steps, he reminded himself, thinking of his mission plan. "Sam?" He called out again, refusing to go looking for her just in case she was wearing something other than normal clothes.

It scared him a bit that she seemed to be to have the upper hand in this situation and that she apparently had no qualms over acting on their attraction. Jack liked to stay a step ahead of people, perhaps due to his penchant for chess, but had the feeling he'd lost it when she had kissed him. Suddenly it seemed like he was at her mercy instead of the other way around, as he'd initially planned it. Of course, his conscience had gotten the better of him and maybe Sam had seen it and grabbed her chance. Every time he appeared to take a step forward with her, he ended up taking two steps back – but not her. The triumphant smile on her face he'd seen at the casinos when she raked her winnings in had made another appearance after they had kissed and it made him wonder if she saw this thing between them as a game too. Or worse, was playing with him.

"Oh, hello," Sam greeted as she entered the kitchen. "I was just reading a book, I didn't hear you come in."

It didn't escape him that she hadn't called him by his name – first or last – or his rank for once. "That's okay. Have you eaten yet?"

"No, I, eh, wasn't sure what your plans were for tonight. I figured if you hadn't eaten yet we could make some dinner and otherwise I'd just eat a sandwich."

Jack barely refrained from commenting on her bad eating habits but he managed to shove his worries aside, reminding himself she was an adult and not his wife. "You cook?"

"I can boil stuff," she confessed with an adorable blush. "I can also make a mean soufflé but rarely find the time to do so."

A woman of contradictions, he thought to himself. "Both ends of the scale, eh?"

"Not really, I'm just good at memorizing old family recipes but that's all. There's no in between for me."

Surprised with her honesty Jack simply nodded and started searching the cabinets for something edible. By the sounds of it he was slightly better at preparing a meal than she was so when she simply stood back and watched him, he got some stuff together for a simple meal and looked at her for approval. "Okay?"

"Sure, fine," Sam replied.

It turned out they worked well together in the kitchen, as if this wasn't the first time they were cooking dinner together and the tasks were divided between them without words; Sam doing the chopping, opening of cans and generally prepare the ingredients while he held out his hand for the right stuff and did the actual cooking.

Less than half an hour later they had put a lasagna in the oven and moved to the living room with a drink in hand. Only when they were seated on the sofa together did Jack start to feel like a nervous schoolboy on his first date, simply because he had no idea what to do or expect next. There hadn't been any words, declarations or promises after their first and only kiss and quite frankly he simply didn't know where he stood with her. Preparing dinner had been easy in companionable silence but now it was turning awkward and uncomfortable as they waited for their food to be done.

"So… have you been up to something?"

Sam's eyebrows knitted together in confusion and there was a hint of suspicion in her eyes before she took a sip of her wine and schooled her features. "No, just doing a bit of this and that."

"Reading, huh?"

"Among other things, yeah."

Jack almost cringed at his inability to have an actual conversation with her now but it wasn't like she was doing her best to keep it going either. "You're not bored yet?"

"Honestly?" Sam asked with a small, genuine smile. "I sort of am, but there's nothing I can do about it…"

There was really nothing to say to that because they'd already talked about the possibility of her getting a job a couple of weeks ago and it hadn't panned out. She had also made it pretty clear she wasn't interested in working with the military if she wasn't allowed to be near the Stargate or go through it, nor did she want the Mission Commander's job and identity. "You just came from a year-long assignment, right? Command of a base?" When she nodded an affirmative he shrugged. "You could look at it like a long vacation, some extended leave to do stuff you didn't have the time for during your command."

"I don't really do vacations," she snorted, twirling her wine around in the glass. "On more than one occasion I had to be kicked out of my lab during my leave because I preferred to work on backlogged research or some projects I hadn't had time for during my regular working hours."

"Oy!"

"I know," she shrugged self-consciously. "I'm just not very good at doing… nothing."

That didn't really surprise him considering how smart she was. She was probably one of those persons who had to constantly keep their minds busy, which would explain all the crossword puzzles and science articles that were lying around at times. Still, it had to be killing her not being able to do what she wanted. Jack knew from experience how grumpy he'd get if he was on medical leave or waiting between assignments and couldn't do anything but sit at home and be restless. Of course it was different when he took leave because he actually _left_ and usually that meant spending time at home or at the cabin with his family. "Have you tried fishing?"

Sam nearly choked on the gulp of wine she'd just taken, coughing loudly before she shook off his hand patting her back. "Sorry, wrong pipe." Her voice was hoarse and her eyes watery as she darted to the kitchen to drink some water.

"So, fishing?" He asked again, waving his beer bottle around. "It's very relaxing and gives you all the peace and quiet you need."

"I don't really like fish."

"Well, you don't have to eat them or anything." Jack wondered what her wan smile was all about, but decided now was not the time to ask. "Maybe we could do something else to keep you occupied." It wasn't until her blue eyes grew to saucers and an adorable flush was creeping up her neck that he realized how that sounded. "I meant, eh," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "You know, something like hiking or going to the zoo."

"The zoo?"

He shrugged defensively and took a sip of beer, before looking at her again. "I think there's a wildlife park less than hour from here. Or we could go to Mount Rainier National Park if you're the outdoorsy type." Seeing how she was Air Force and spent most of her time exploring other planets he figured she wouldn't be opposed to some fresh air and hiking.

"Now?"

"Maybe some time this week or next weekend," he suggested. "I'm going to check on the lasagna."

To his surprise Sam followed him and started getting plates and other stuff to set the table in the dining room, a place he didn't think she'd used before. Their dinner was almost ready and he quickly threw a salad together while she finished her task and ten minutes later they were seated across from each other, with their plates full of food accompanied by a nice glass of wine. The setting wasn't overly romantic or anything but it still felt strange to Jack to be having such an intimate dinner with someone other than Sara, although admittedly he couldn't recall the last time he and his wife had actually had a romantic dinner…

"This is very good," Sam complimented after a few bites.

"Couldn't have done it without you," he smirked, enjoying how she modestly lowered her eyes. "So, did you have other plans for tonight?"

She explained that whoever had made the house ready for her had left some movies so maybe they could watch one of those. "We could also play chess or cards…"

The way her voice trailed off indicated she didn't really think those were good options if he was reading her right and while he usually enjoyed both types of games he had to agree. It probably wouldn't impress his superiors much either if he told them he'd spent the night playing chess with her over watching a movie together on the couch. "A movie sounds good," he replied in between bites.

"I don't have any dessert," Sam said with a small frown once her plate was cleared. "I couldn't find any blue jello and the rest just didn't look very appealing to me, sorry."

"That's okay," he quickly reassured her and helped himself to more lasagna while she nibbled on some salad. Blue jello wasn't really all that appealing to him either and when you lived on MREs for weeks on end it wasn't that bad to have a good, home cooked meal without dessert.

After dinner they cleared the dishes and went back into the living room. The selection of movies wasn't excellent by any means but they quickly agreed on one to watch and Jack made a mental note to rent some more DVDs next time. That is, if there was going to be a next time, he thought as he sat down next to Sam on the couch. Once again she surprised him by leaning into him, tucking her feet under her and starting the movie. About twenty minutes in he tentatively placed his arm on the backrest behind her. Sam looked up at him with a charming smile and blindly reached behind her to catch his fingers and pull his hand down.

Jack let out a deep breath now that his arm was effectively around her and her thumb was rubbing circles on the back of his hand. His heart started hammering when she snuggled up closer against him, resting her head against his shoulder with her hair ticking his neck. He may be a bit rusty on the whole dating thing but he was pretty sure these signals couldn't be interpreted in more than one way. Human behavior hadn't changed _that_ much in all these years. Just to check his theory he squeezed her hand and lowered himself a bit on the couch. She willingly went with him, pulling his arm tighter around her and flashing him another smile before focusing back on the television.

Most of the movie was a blur to him as he contemplated his next move. Sam placed her hand on his knee to apparently still his nervous tapping and he made a conscious effort to keep his restlessness to a low, when her hand suddenly slid up his thigh a bit. His pulse shot up and he licked his suddenly dry lips when her grip momentarily tightened and her hand rested more or less on his inner thigh only a few inches away from his groin. His free hand squeezed the throw pillow next to him in an effort to get his breathing and racing heart under control. She could probably hear the beat with the way her head was resting against his chest now.

Slowly, Jack disentangled his hand from hers as he told himself to stop acting like an insecure teenager and experimentally trailed it down her side. He reveled in the shudder that ran through her and kept his hand at her waist. The warmth of her skin almost burned through the flimsy fabric of her shirt and he heard her sharp intake of breath when he started brushing his thumb over her ribs, just underneath her breast. Tightening his grip on her slim waist he bent his head until his lips brushed her ear. "Comfortable?"

Sam squirmed a bit in his hold until her other breast was pressing against his side and her gaze met his. Their cheeks were almost touching and he was pretty sure she could probably feel the stubble from his five o'clock shadow at this distance. "Very," she whispered, her hot breath tickling his cheek and ear, making him shudder.

"Enjoying the movie?" He questioned as he leaned down and placed a feather light kiss on the inch of bare skin of her shoulder, exposed by her shirt's wide neckline. From this angle he had trouble holding her gaze but he could still see her face.

Her lips quirked into a smile, her cheek suddenly resting against his head and she nuzzled his hair. Her breathing was heavy and it ruffled his short silver strand when she answered. "It's the… whole experience that counts."

"Really?" Bringing up his free hand he brushed a few locks of hair aside and raised his head to look her in the eye. He traced her bottom lip with a finger as he held her gaze. "Such as?"

"This," Sam replied, softly pressing a kiss against the tip of his finger. Her lips curled into a smile and she cheekily touched it with the tip of her tongue. "And this…"

Jack hissed at the contact and reflexively pulled his hand away, only for her to tighten the grip she still had on his thigh. Her nails were digging into the denim of his jeans, which were slightly tighter than a few minutes ago. "How about…" He grabbed her chin with his free hand and pressed his lips against her in a brief kiss. "… this?"

"That too," she breathed, before capturing his lips with her own.

Slowly opening his mouth to allow her access he gently bit on her tongue and pulled her closer with the hand still resting on her waist, nearly pulling her in his lap. "Sure?" he murmured between open-mouthed kisses, enjoying the feel of her tongue gliding against his.

"Definitely," Sam moaned when they slightly pulled apart, her swollen lower lip between his teeth before he released it.


	27. Day Seventy of a New Life

**Day 70  
>Liddell Residence<br>Rainier, Washington**

Sam had lost track of time since they had started kissing and it was only when her eyes fluttered open and she rested her forehead against his, panting heavily from arousal and lack of oxygen, that she became aware of how much time must have passed. It was nearly dark around them, the only illumination coming from the kitchen, a lamp near the fireplace and an eerie glow from the TV behind her. The movie must have ended already because it was dead quiet in the room except for their loud breathing. Blood was still rushing through her veins, her heart pumping fast and she could swear he was able to hear it.

Under the palm of her hand she could feel his heart pounding at a similar rate as her own. The chain of his dog tags had somehow gotten entangled with her fingers where her hand rested on his chest, skin on skin. Breaking her gaze away from his eyes darkened with lust she looked down and noticed for the first time that his black button-up shirt had been parted, pushed open completely to expose his toned torso to her exploring hands. His tanned skin was warm and familiar, decorated with a bit of gray chest hairs and a few scars – some familiar, others not – here and there.

"Sam?" O'Neill questioned in a hoarse tone, one of his hands brushing her hair out of her face before tipping up her chin while the other trailed up and down the sensitive skin of her side. "Are you okay?"

She bit her swollen lip to prevent a moan slipping out as his fingers brushed over the lace of her bra. "It's eh," she cleared her throat, blushing under his scrutiny, "just late."

He released her chin to check his watch with a furrowed brow, as if he too hadn't realized it until now. "Oh crap! It's past midnight already!"

"Movie is over too," Sam mumbled, glancing over her shoulder. Due to the movement she suddenly became all too aware of his arousal as she had somehow ended up straddling him.

"I wasn't really paying attention to it anyway," he replied with a mischievous grin. "I, er, I should probably go…"

She nodded, lifting her hand to smooth his hair down to undo her earlier mussing from their make-out session. It didn't escape her that he hadn't moved except to continue the stroking with his calloused fingertips or that his eyes were locked on her heaving chest. Somewhere down the line he had unbuttoned her blouse, which was gaping open and giving him an excellent view of her bra-clad breasts. Now she was torn as what to do next. The smart thing was probably to escort him to the door as she had done the previous night and get herself and her tingling body under control.

"Yeah, I should head to bed," she whispered, feeling a jolt of arousal when his eyes flashed hungrily. His hand had stilled at her words but she could feel his fingers digging into her skin and Sam was once again reminded that she was in control here. There were other signs of his arousal and self-restraint, like his clenched jaw, the racing pulse point in his neck, the continuing pounding of his heart and the bulge in his jeans pressing against her. It was an empowering realization and she briefly wondered if she should take advantage of it…

Here in the dark he was just like her Jack, with the same dark eyes, silver hair and tanned skin. He tasted and felt the same, even if some of his actions seemed hesitant and too restrained and controlled as if he was holding back in fear of… what? Scaring or hurting her? She had needs of her own and it had been months ago when she and Jack had been together last, first because they were in separate galaxies and had that damned extraction ceremony to attend right after she got back and then she ended up in this twisted timeline almost four months ago… It had been too long since she had even touched or kissed her husband, both too damned professional to even exchange a kiss on the Tok'ra planet upon seeing each other after months.

Now, Sam ached for more. It would be so easy to just continue; simply close her eyes, pretend she was back home in the semi darkness of her bedroom where he would look, feel and taste exactly the same. It was just a few feet away and maybe she would finally be able to sleep through the night, being held by him…

"You really should… go."

"Go," he said simultaneously. His mouth was quirked in a soft smile as his free hand gently slid down her back.

Cupping his cheek, she caressed the dimple there with her thumb, holding his dark gaze. It pulled on her heartstrings to see how easily Colonel O'Neill smiled and showed off those loveable dimples, knowing the glaring difference between him and her husband was his son and losing Charlie the reason her Jack smiled like that so rarely. Following the contours of his mouth with her thumb she gave him a tentative smile, squirming on his lap to get up so he could leave when the hand on her back suddenly moved lower, his fingers spreading out over her rear while his other hand left her side and slid into her hair.

"One more for the road," he murmured. The hand in her hair pulled her down, his lips immediately seeking out hers while his other hand pressed her back down in his lap.

The tentative kiss quickly grew more passionate, her own hand fisting his short hair and the other scraping over his nipple down his chest, while Sam ground her hips against him. She got caught up in the sensations, pressing her breasts against his chest as her tongue explored his mouth eagerly and growled in frustration when he broke off the kiss, moving his head back to which she leaned forward to catch his lips.

"Sam," O'Neill moaned as he pulled back again. "It's really getting late…"

"Yeah," she breathed. He gasped when she straightened up, brushing against him. "We really shouldn't-"

"No."

In an attempt to do the right thing Sam got off him despite their shared reluctance and straightened her blouse as she stood in front of the sofa. The floor was cold to her bare feet and a stark contrast to her flushed cheeks and the liquid heat coursing through her body. Giving him some room she turned towards the DVD player and turned off the device and television. "I might as well leave it in," she muttered to herself.

"What?"

Startled at his hoarse voice she turned back around just as he was adjusting his jeans. "Oh, the DVD. Might as well leave it in since we didn't really watch it…"

"Next time." O'Neill looked up with a smirk but a small blush appeared on his face when he realized she knew what he'd been doing.

Sam quickly averted her eyes to get rid of the lust-induced fog in her mind and looked around the room. "Where's your coat?"

"By the door."

Deciding keeping herself busy was probably the best approach she went looking for it and by the time she'd found the leather jacket she heard his footsteps coming her way. Sam's mouth turned dry when she saw him with his ruffled hair, colored cheeks and trembling hands as he attempted to button up his shirt again. Through the parted fabric in his hands she could see the waistband of his blue jeans hanging low on his narrow hips and in her mind the only thing that could make him look sexier in that very moment was if he was barefoot! She automatically took a step back and nearly hit the wall when he was suddenly standing in front of her, slightly looming over her as his dark eyes roamed her figure. "Oh," she muttered, quickly pulling her forgotten blouse closed and shoving the jacket in his hands to prevent herself from touching him.

The Colonel smiled sheepishly and averted his gaze as he slipped on his jacket, apparently giving up on the few remaining buttons of his shirt. "I should go…" He reiterated, gesturing at the door with one hand while caressing her cheek with the other. It seemed as if he wanted to say more but then he frowned and bit his lip, like he was stopping himself. For a moment he just stared her in the eye as she clumsily tried to button up her blouse and then he brushed his thumb over her swollen lips and the soft skin around it.

"What…" Sam gasped, the touch reigniting the fire in her. When he rubbed over a specific spot she dimly realized she'd worn her cherry lip gloss and that there were probably a few smears around her mouth from their kisses. With him so close she could see his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, signs she immediately recognized. "You really should leave," she reminded him again, sounding a bit breathless even to her own ears.

He simply nodded an affirmative, not even protesting when her hand covered his. "Yeah."

She tugged his hand down and then her own traitorous hand snuck up his sleeve without volition. "It is getting-"

"Late," he murmured, taking a step closer.

"Really late," she corrected as her fingers slipped to the nape of his neck.

The corners of O'Neill's lips quirked up. "I know, it's morning alre-"

Sam reached up on her toes and smashed her lips against his, not allowing him to finish his sentence. He responded immediately, his mouth moving wetly against hers and when she nipped his lip he growled and pushed her against the wall with his body, effectively trapping her. Not wasting any time she pushed the leather jacket off his shoulders and, when he didn't resist but merely rocked against her, grabbed the two ends of his shirt and pulled hard enough to undo all the buttons. His own hands were already inside her blouse, stroking her breasts and the soft skin of her abdomen when she tugged his shirt off. "We shouldn't…" she murmured between kisses as his tongue slipped in and out of her mouth, "be doing this."

"I know," he hissed, ripping off the last few buttons of her blouse to press his naked torso against hers.

"It is… oh God," she moaned as he cupped her six to pull her flush against him.

O'Neill growled lowly as he tried to take off her blouse with one hand, the other firmly resting on her behind. "Too soon."

Sam fisted his hair when his delicious mouth started exploring her neck and pressed herself against his heaving chest. "We hardly know each other," she protested weakly, grabbing his belt with her free hand.

"A mistake."

"God yes!" She wasn't sure if she was actually agreeing with him or urging him on but when his fingers popped the button of her jeans she pushed off the wall and tugged him with her in the direction of her bedroom. "It's really… stupid."

He murmured something incomprehensible when his lips captured hers again and suddenly her blouse fell to the floor and his hands were on her rear, lifting her up. "Very."

Wrapping her legs around his hips Sam squeaked when one of his hands slipped in her jeans from behind. "Door," she muttered, blindly reaching out to the left wall until she felt her bedroom door. "I can't believe this…"

"It's way, _way_ too soon," he agreed as they stumbled through the door and into her bedroom.

"Stupid mistake," she repeated when he put her down and closed the door.

O'Neill growled when her baggy jeans fell down her hips and pooled around her ankles. "Yeah."

Sam smiled at his appreciate look and quickly fumbled with his belt buckle. Before he had time to protest she had pulled his jeans and boxers down and together they tumbled onto the bed.

* * *

><p><strong>1215 hours<br>Dodgson Apartment  
>New York City, New York<strong>

Daniel used his cane to close the door behind him and then proceeded to the kitchen counter to dump his grocery bag. He quickly retraced his steps back to the door to lock it since he didn't have any plans for the rest of the day and hobbled back to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Once that was done he pulled the grocery bag closer and started unpacking it. He startled a bit when he placed his chocolate-walnut cookies on the counter and caught his own reflection in the toaster; he was smiling without even realizing it.

It had been a long time since he'd felt content, let alone happy. Certainly not the last four months in this timeline. It was a strange realization but one that didn't really surprise him if he was honest. He couldn't even recall when he'd last been truly happy, of course that didn't necessarily mean he'd been unhappy for years. It was just that most of the time the good things were marred by bad ones. Like marrying Sha're and then losing her to the Goa'uld. It had been his reason to join SG-1, which allowed him to experience so many wonderful things and meet the most interesting people and their cultures, but at the same time it was tinged by Sha're's death and all the other people he'd cared about.

Another great opportunity had been provided by his work at the SGC; being back in contact with Sarah Gardner and able to share some of his experiences with her, but the reason why – her hosting Osiris – would always overshadow it. He had also gotten back in touch with his grandfather and they had finally realized that the ridiculed theories they'd both had and which had caused a drift between them, were both correct. Then, Nick joined the giant aliens on P7X-377 to learn from them and only sporadically sent a message to the SGC.

Daniel frowned at his reflection and tried to shake the upsetting thoughts from his mind. After all, there was nothing he could do about them now, especially not here in this strange reality. For all he knew all those people, perhaps even his own parents were still alive and happy with their lives here – quite frankly, he didn't want to know. At the same time though, a lot of the aliens he'd met and befriended over the years could be dead. Right now he wasn't even sure about Teal'c and Vala's fates and if he were honest, with all the possibilities it might be better for them to be dead rather than being back working for the Goa'uld in one way or another. Maybe Ba'al had even captured or recruited them in some perverse way of punishing them.

Turning back to the few groceries on the counter he started putting them away. One of the conditions of his NDA with the OSI had been about getting him transport so he wouldn't have to get cabs or use public transportation with his prosthetic and while that was great, his condition still meant he couldn't carry much. That meant he had to do quite some grocery shopping throughout the week because he could only get one bag at the time. Up until now, being basically confined to his apartment and not having a job, he hadn't realized how quickly he ran out of food.

Normally he spent most of his time at the SGC and either skipped some meals because he was too involved with his research or just ate in the commissary. It was rare for him to do much cooking and eating at home, which probably also had something to do with him crashing on base for a few hours of sleep every other night or so. Not to mention all the time spent off-world.

As he poured himself some coffee Daniel wondered if Sam was feeling the same way. The only reason his mood had improved was because she had gotten him the job at her company and that meant finally being able to work towards going home. But what about her? Obviously she had been busy with setting up the company and who knew what other things she had done already but he doubted she had a job to keep her busy. Considering his own surveillance he was pretty sure hers was even heavier and it wouldn't surprise him if the Jack O'Neill of this timeline was assigned to keep an eye on her too. It would certainly complicate her plan but at the same time she had already done so much. Hopefully she wouldn't get stuck too much on missing Jack and would allow herself some relaxation and fun too.

Mitchell was probably doing just that. Seeing this timeline as a little vacation after battling the Ori for so long and simply wait for Sam to fix it or ask for help. Unlike Sam and Daniel himself Mitchell had a much brighter outtake. There had been times in the beginning that he wondered if the guy was even taking his job, off-world travel and the galactic wars seriously. He still didn't know if that was just down to differences in personality or because he was relatively new to the SGC. Perhaps Mitchell was just a laidback Southern farm boy. Sure, he'd been in the Air Force and Daniel knew he'd seen war – on Earth – and had provided air support and done some bombing runs too, even killing friendlies after getting the wrong intel. But that was different than going through the Stargate and seeing so much slavery and death, not to mention killing up close and personal with guns instead of pushing some buttons high up in the air.

Up until a few years ago Daniel probably would have been seen just as carefree by others, especially military folks. Watching so many he cared for being enslaved, tortured and killed had left its marks on him. So far Mitchell hadn't lost anyone close to him yet at the hands of their off-world enemies and he could only hope his friend would be spared such loss. Perhaps the 'vacation' would do him some good, give him a breather between battling the Ori and taking on the Lucian Alliance and all the other folks who were trying to take advantage of the power vacuum left behind after the defeat of the Goa'uld and the Ori.

Smiling again, Daniel moved around the kitchen to make himself some lunch. Like Mitchell, he should just take it easy for now and help Sam wherever he could.

* * *

><p><strong>0930 hours<br>Liddell Residence  
>Rainier, Washington<strong>

Jack startled awake at the sound of incessant beeping and opened his bleary eyes. It was pretty clear he wasn't in his base quarters or at home… _Crap!_ Rubbing his eyes he reached out to the nightstand next to him, trying to silence the damn alarm clock and in the process knocking the thing to the ground. But at least it stopped beeping. Steeling himself, he glanced over his shoulder and was simultaneously relieved and disappointed to see he was alone in bed. The other half of the mattress wasn't warm anymore so he figured Sam had gotten up a while ago. Surprisingly he hadn't even woken up despite being a rather light sleeper when he wasn't having nightmares. He did remember her getting up once a few hours ago to go to the bathroom but he'd been too spent to even lift his head, let alone speak. Besides, he had no idea what to say, which was why it was probably best she wasn't here.

Maybe she was in the kitchen or the living room? But why then had she set the alarm? A glance around the room wasn't giving him any more answers but he did notice she had folded his clothes – including the shirt and jacket he'd lost near the front door – and put them together with the shoes he'd kicked off in the hallway to her bedroom on a chair in the corner. Her own jeans weren't where she'd shucked them and he didn't see any traces of her lacy lingerie he'd tossed behind them when they'd been on the bed. He also realized he was probably sleeping on her side of the bed as he sat up and reached down for the alarm clock, otherwise the thing would be on the other nightstand obviously. Well, she hadn't complained about it or pointed out he'd been on the wrong side.

Then again, there hadn't been much talking between them once they'd hit the mattress… Afterwards, when he'd rolled off her they had both more or less just lain there staring at the ceiling, both trying to get their racing heart and rapid breathing under control. His powerful climax had drained him and while he usually enjoyed the accompanying post-coital haze, he hadn't last night – or earlier this morning, whichever. Instead, as soon as he was able to think again realization had dawned on him and the guilt about what they'd just done had been huge. A look at Sam's still form told him she'd been just as torn up about their actions as he was and when her wide blue eyes had locked on his dark ones he had felt just awful and with a murmured "C'mere" he'd beckoned her over with a wave of his hand, the gesture itself almost too much effort. After a moment of hesitation in which she gnawed her lip, she had given in and rolled over to him and he'd wrapped his arms around her clammy body after pulling up the covers.

He still wasn't sure why he'd done that, especially when all he could think about was how wrong it was. Not just the cheating on his wife part but lying there with Sam in some sort of twisted lover's embrace. Luckily the sex had worn him out and he'd drifted off to sleep moments later. To his surprise he'd slept like a baby despite feeling guilty as hell. Now the awkward part of what to say to her the morning after… but first, he had to get up and use the bathroom.

Checking the alarm clock it seemed to still be working so Jack placed it on the nightstand and stood up. He rolled his eyes at himself when he realized he was still wearing his socks, never having bothered with taking them off in the early hours of the night. It was then that he spotted a piece of paper on the floor and retrieved it. "O'Neill," he muttered, seeing his name on it. Glancing back to where he'd picked up the note and the alarm clock he figured Sam must have placed the note near the device but in his haste to turn off the beeping, he'd accidentally tossed it on the floor.

"You were right," he read aloud after unfolding the paper. "It was a huge mistake and never should have happened. I'm going for a run; I'll be back in about an hour, which should give you enough time to freshen up, get dressed and be gone by the time I get back." His eyes flew over the words again, noticing there wasn't an address or a signature, although there was small dot of ink at the bottom making it look like Sam was about to sign it but thought better of it. "What?" He said to himself once the words registered. "That's kind of… cold." Even for her.

Now Jack also realized why she'd set the alarm, to make sure he'd be up in time to get the hell out of Dodge. In a way he was angry with her for dealing – or more like not dealing – with it like this but he also felt the same relief from knowing she wasn't in bed with him well up again. At least now he wouldn't have to look her in the eye, he thought. Suddenly a thought occurred to him and he dashed over to his folded jeans on the chair, digging through the pockets. His keys, with the jamming device on his keychain still intact and active by the looks of it were still there. For a moment he'd feared the NID would have gotten everything on tape – audio or visual – or that maybe Sam had found it when putting his clothes away.

Aware of his nakedness he went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. Crap, his hair was all over the place, no doubt from Sam who'd been running her hands through it and there wasn't a comb in sight. He eyed her luxurious shower longingly and figured there was still plenty of time for him to use it. Not just for his hair but he also felt rather… sticky, from their activities. Jack closed his eyes as memories assaulted him and leaned on the counter.

The sex had been intense and they'd both worked up quite a sweat as they'd moved together. It had been so different from when he made love to Sara; Sam was demanding and the sex had been passionate, frenzied even… maybe even a bit rough as she'd urged him on for more and more, until he'd finally lost control as her nails dug into his back. Jack groaned when he turned his back to the mirror and glanced over his shoulder, seeing the marks she'd left on him. He couldn't recall the last time he'd been that wild in bed and it scared him; he took pride in his restraint because the last thing he wanted to when making love to Sara was hurt her, but it was almost as if Sam had been trying to push him to let go of his self-control. Not only did it make him wonder about her and her behavior but she'd seemed to know exactly how and where to touch him to drive him over the edge – some spots even he had been unaware of… what did that mean, exactly?

Shaking his head he tried to clear his mind and turned on the shower before looking for some towels. There was no way he'd walk around the locker rooms on base with these marks on his back! Of course, that also meant he couldn't go home anytime soon. He and Sara had long ago settled into a routine and while that meant they didn't make love as often as they used to – and with assignments almost sporadically since he was hardly ever home – it didn't mean she wouldn't see the scratches under his shirt and put two and two together. Not that he thought his superiors would grant him some leave if they thought he was making headway with Sam but still… God, what had he done? How could he do this to Sara? Never in his life had Jack thought he'd be the kind of man to cheat on his wife, or whatever kind of romantic relationship he had with a woman.

As he stepped under the hot shower he let the water, regret and guilt wash over him, silently berating himself for his stupidity. Maybe he should thank Sam for going for a run because he had no idea how he would be able to face her while he was experiencing some major regret and guilt issues and not blurt out that he'd just cheated on his wife – about whom he'd lied to her – by sleeping with her! How could he ever have accepted this goddamned assignment? Was it really worth all this? Who knew if Sam was even thinking about fixing the timeline, let alone actually acting on her ideas! And for that he'd just risked everything! Sara would never forgive him and considering how he'd always preached to his son about treating his girlfriend, no matter how temporary, right neither would Tyler. To think he'd gone along with his orders to _save_ them, save Tyler.

Jack laughed hollowly, wondering what other excuses he could come up with. Grabbing the body wash he quickly lathered up and rinsed, before shutting off the taps and stepping out of the shower. As he wrapped the towel around his waist he recalled how he'd even let Sam snuggle up to him last night after breaking his marriage vows because she'd looked so upset.

"Christ!" He exclaimed, quickly going to the counter and checking the cabinets and drawers as he remembered how intimately she'd been pressed against his hip with her leg over his. "Oh thank, God," he muttered when his hands got hold of her birth control pills. He hadn't even though about using protection, for crying out loud! The few times he and Sara were intimate they didn't use any because she had already gone through menopause but Sam was at least ten years younger! Not to mention that he and Sara had always been committed to each other and were both clean; none of the doctors had said anything about Sam having anything contagious and seeing how she was military he doubted she would have any untreated STDs, but still… God, he was such an idiot!

After roughly toweling himself off he stalked into the bedroom and hastily put on his clothes. His eyes fell on the note Sam had left him and he briefly wondered if the awkward morning after was the only reason she'd snuck out. The only reason he hadn't left immediately after their little roll in the hay was because she had seemed equally upset – and because he'd been spent. Considering his own inner turmoil over sleeping with a woman he'd only gotten to know for basically that exact reason, he tried to imagine what it must be like for her; after all, she wasn't his former commanding officer's counterpart. It had to be weird for her too, perhaps that's why she'd taken off. Oh crap, now he felt even guiltier about the whole thing since she had no idea why he was here in the first place. For all she knew his intentions were noble and he was just keeping an eye on her safety and activity for the safety of life as he knew it.

Unless of course the attraction between them had always been there and she and the other him had acted on it already, which could explain some of her behavior towards him, including the intimate familiarity she seemed to have with his body…

* * *

><p><strong>1045 hours<br>Rainier, Washington**

Sam peered down the street trying to see if O'Neill's car was still parked near her house. He'd told her his superiors had let him keep the SUV they'd used for their road trip for the time being, which she took to mean it was his for the duration of his assignment. She had purposely taken a bit longer with her run, even walking the last couple of blocks to give him all the time he might need to get out of her house and return to the base. It looked like it had worked since the SUV was nowhere in sight, so she continued her way down the pavement.

Well, going for a run had worked in _that_ respect. She didn't need a shrink to know she had literally been running away from the situation but she had also hoped it would help clear her mind, like it usually did. It hadn't and she was still just as confused as before she'd left; only now she wasn't just sore, but tired too and even more muscles were aching. She hadn't been lying when she had said he should go home and that it was a bad idea for them to take it a step further but, in retrospect, Sam was pretty sure she had already decided to take what she wanted and needed by then.

It made her feel horrible to know she could just use another person like that and that it hadn't even much effort to ignore that little voice in her head that kept telling her it was wrong. She had made vows and never in a million years had she thought she would ever cheat on her Jack. It didn't really matter that he'd died on that planet or that to some it wouldn't even be considered cheating – Daniel would probably have a perfectly good excuse for her to behave as she had – since Colonel O'Neill was her husband's counterpart and unlike Jack he wasn't dead. By resetting the timeline Jack had basically become Colonel O'Neill for as far as she could tell without further research, which the Air Force wouldn't allow, since she suspected this wasn't merely an alternate reality; her timeline was gone and this one had replaced it. She still felt guilty.

Watching O'Neill sleep, his relaxed features so heartbreakingly familiar, had been confronting, both times she'd gotten up. First after only an hour or two to use the bathroom and clean herself up a bit, but she hadn't wasted the chance to work on her naquadah detector for another half hour seeing how the Colonel had only blinked at her before falling asleep again. The second time she hadn't returned to bed and instead she'd agonized over what to do next. It had seemed cruel writing that note; it wasn't like her just like she'd never been the love 'em and leave 'em type.

It didn't help that she had been right all along. O'Neill _was_ just like Jack in the dimly lit bedroom, only more hesitant and careful as he explored her body. Jack had never treated her like a damned china doll, as if afraid she would break. Quite the opposite when it had been a long time since they had seen each other, or their last time before one or both of them had to resume their duty again. Those times they were almost frantic in their passion in some kind of primitive desire to claim each other and that had been exactly what she needed. So she had urged him on just so she could pretend nothing was amiss and in the darkness of the night she had succeeded.

Therefore it was difficult for Sam to decide if it really had been a mistake considering the momentary comfort and oblivion she had experienced. Not to mention she more or less had confirmation about the true nature of O'Neill's assignment; she refused to believe he would have lied about and cheated on Sara otherwise. By leaving him the note she was effectively one step ahead again and knowing him, it would probably only add to his guilt. In a way it was a win-win situation for her, Sam decided.

But somehow, all the reasoning didn't make her feel any less guilty towards Jack or having used O'Neill in such a manner and it reminded her of the coldness and calculative nature of her Replicator double, something she had never associated with herself.


	28. Day Seventy Four of a New Life

**Day 74****  
><strong>**McChord Air Force Base****  
><strong>**Lakewood, Washington**

Jack sighed as he walked from the food court to a little bench near the grass, one of the few cast in a shadow and still free. After his weekly meeting with Hammond, Hank, Kennedy and Simmons he had been looking forward to some relaxation and some space to think. Preferably with cake, but there wasn't any so he'd bought himself some ice cream after visiting the on-base game store next door. Tyler's birthday was coming up and since the kid had told him how he and his friends would often get together and play on his Xbox – which Jack had interpreted as entertainment on drunken frat parties – he'd bought his son one of those new games with a cool controller.

Seeing how he'd neglected his family a bit recently, was still on assignment and finally had some time to himself he figured he might as well buy the presents now before he'd be too busy and run out of time. Not that he knew for certain he'd even be able to make it to Tyler's birthday. Hell, with the way things were going now it might be best to just send him the gifts and not bother with making an appearance. It would probably hurt for all involved but it wasn't like this would be the first time Jack would miss a birthday because of his job. Not only was he unsure his CO would actually grant him leave to visit his family but, truth be known, he didn't know if would be able to face his son and wife after everything that had happened with Sam.

Just this afternoon his superiors had made it clear he was to continue his romantic involvement with Sam after the night they'd spent together earlier this week. Jack grimaced at the memory. He hadn't been looking forward to reporting such a thing but luckily he'd been spared the embarrassment of actually sharing that information and saying it aloud since the NID surveillance had shown he hadn't left her house that evening. A quick check of the recordings had shown the lack of any data in the living room for most of the evening and no audio recordings had been made in her bedroom until he'd left that morning due to the jamming device he'd carried with him, or so Simmons had gleefully explained in the meeting.

Clearly the NID operative had enjoyed Jack's embarrassment and he hadn't been the only one. Hank had kept his amusement to himself for most of the meeting up until the end, after they had all told Jack quitting the assignment wasn't an option at this stage and that he would have to follow through now since he'd gotten this far already. When he'd explained about Sam's behavior and that she'd told him in a note that it had been a mistake, he'd basically been told to go see her and talk his way back into her bed. On their way out Hank had intercepted him, grabbing his arm and sneeringly reminding Jack that he and Sara had been together for three decades and surely he 'had to know by now how to satisfy and please a woman?' before giving him a pat on the back and sending him on his way.

Fuming, Jack had glared at his former friend and quickly stalked off before he'd do something he might regret. Like assaulting a superior officer. Although Hank _was_ retired and merely holding an advisory position… Still, the man had the NID's ear and possibly a stronger influence than Hammond at the moment with the brass, despite their difference in rank and status. General Hammond had made it pretty clear that his position wasn't all that powerful in this situation a little over a month ago. Just his luck that the only man on his side and with some morals involved in this operation was being largely ignored by the higher-ups, simply because they wanted results now and didn't care about whose lives were destroyed in the process.

Now here he was, sitting in the sun trying to calm down and make up his mind while munching on ice cream. If what he'd done would ever come out he was sure Sara would leave him after all the things she had already put up with when it came to him, and more specifically his job, over the last thirty years. Tyler's life would be ruined too. Jack didn't want to think too much about Sam but at the same time he couldn't help but wonder how she would react if she learned the truth. _She_ had been the one to take it a step further and had stopped him from leaving – not that he'd been trying too hard – so it wasn't like he'd forced her into this. However, all she knew was that he'd been flirting with her, was assigned to watch over her and that he was 'divorced'. It wasn't as if she'd asked for any of this either.

So far all he had were some suspicions about her and her life from before she came here, plus some nagging feeling that something was up with that Jackson guy and his new job. But really, there was no evidence that Sam was up to anything and he doubted Jackson could do much about the timeline with just one and a half legs. If there was nothing going on, no secret plans or whatever then this, his assignment, separation from his family and his relationship with Sam and the subsequent consequences… it would all be for naught. He was risking it all on the small chance that Sam had something up her sleeve that might end up erasing his son from existence, but at the same time that wasn't something he could risk no matter how small the chance. It was a distressing realization and he wondered if it was wrong for him to hope she _was _scheming something, just so he could justify his actions. Otherwise not only his wife, son and he himself would pay the price of his betrayal but Sam too, when her life already seemed so miserable.

Jack continued to snack on his ice cream absentmindedly, his thoughts going miles a minute. Perhaps he was paying the price for all the damn distasteful things he'd done in service of his country now… He startled when his phone vibrated in his pocket and for a minute he worried it was Tyler, or worse Sara. His son had left him a voicemail message yesterday, asking him when he was coming home and if that would be before he had to go back to college in a plaintive tone the boy hadn't used in over a decade. Guilt had crept up immediately when he'd listened to it, the healing scratches on his back suddenly itching without reason.

"Aw nuts," he muttered when he finally managed to get the darn cell phone out of his pocket with one hand and saw the caller ID. At least it wasn't Sara or Tyler, he told himself before answering. "O'Neill."

"_Hey buddy!"_

"Farrity, tell me you've got something," Jack replied. He figured the direct route would save him some time.

The rustle of paper and a sigh came through the line with the FBI Agent apparently browsing his notes as he shifted the phone. _"Eh, yes. You asked me to look into that salvaging company-"_

"Yeah, yeah, I remember. Just give me what you've got," he muttered irritably, glaring at the slowly melting ice cream cone in his hand.

"_Not a lot yet, since I haven't had much time yet but I told you I'd give you an update after a week, so…"_ The man's voice trailed off for a minute and it sounded suspiciously like he was taking a sip of coffee or something before he continued. _"The company is on the up and up, all the paperwork checks out although some of it seems to have been approved rather quickly but that in itself is not suspicious. Interestingly the building in Trenton has been supplied as their headquarters rather late in the process, which is usually one of the first things people settle on-"_

Jack rolled his eyes and cleared his throat loudly. "I don't really care about the order of when which papers were filed. Just tell me if proper procedures were followed and if there's something… hinky, about the company."

"_Hinky, buddy?"_ Farrity chuckled over the phone. _"Anyway, like I said it all appears to be legit and once they were given the green light they started looking for people. It looks like they're getting ready for a job soon because they've leased a ship and certain equipment for the next three months. Lots of new personnel has been hired too."_

"Leased?"

"_Yeah, small or beginning companies seem to be leaning towards leasing instead of buying these days_," he said, with what Jack imagined was a shrug.

Jack nodded slowly, digesting this new information as he peered out to the road, watching the cars go by. "Personnel all check out?"

"_So far, yes. There's a handful who have a criminal record, nothing major or alarming and they're all for the physical labor. Some divers, engineers and one archeologist too. Salvage master as well, who seems to be in the process of picking his team if the online advertisements are to be believed. I'm still checking the administrative staff but it was slow going with everyone coming from all over the country, so these should be done quickly. There's one guy, a, eh…" _More rustling paper and then the sound of typing on a keyboard before Farrity continued. "_Charles Dodgson, he's flag-"_

"Don't mind him," he replied quickly.

"_Ah, okay_," the agent muttered, seemingly understanding what that meant.

Jack frowned in disgust as melting ice cream ran down his left hand and tried to ignore it. "What about the woman?" He asked, hoping but doubting Farrity had something to share about her and then he could hang up and clean his hand.

"_Therra Carlin… I ran a search and it didn't take me long to find her with such a name, but I haven't had much time in tracking down or verifying the information you wanted. Her finances seem in order, but I've only had a cursory glance at them and passed them on to a buddy of mine who has more experience with that sort of thing. He'll get back to me on that next week. I understand what you meant about her background being too perfect but so far I haven't found any proof to the contrary. Hopefully I'll have more for you next week because I'm working with some pretty meager stuff right now, buddy."_

"Yeah, I know. Not a lot of personal information or anything really from the last few years," he mumbled, recalling the flimsy NID file on the woman. Jack's attention wandered when Farrity started reciting information Simmons had already shared with him and frowned when a silver Prius came his way. That license plate looked awfully familiar, he thought as he squinted from behind his sunglasses. When the car drove past him he was sure he'd seen a blonde head at the driver's seat and a glance at the rear of the car confirmed it to him; it was Sam's! What the hell was she doing here on base? "Um, yeah," he interrupted Farrity. "I've got to go. Dig a little deeper into this Carlin woman's background and get me a good picture of her, okay? O'Neill out."

Jack didn't wait for a response and ended the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket still staring in the direction of Sam's car. There were only a few reasons she would be here and considering she had been adamant about not reprising the role of Mission Commander Carter nor had she seemed willing to work with the military unless she got access to the Stargate – which would never happen – and no one in the know had contacted him to inform him about her arrival or her whereabouts, he figured only one thing was left; her health. The McChord Medical Clinic was just up the road in the direction she'd come from and he knew that Doctor Nimiziki, the one assigned to her and who was read into her situation, worked there several days a week. If she was ill or injured someone would have called him, maybe even Sam herself despite the lack of contact from the past week.

Their night together flashed through his mind again, an illicit thrill running down his back at the memory despite the guilt and regret he'd become oh so familiar with in the last few days. They hadn't used any protection but he'd been comforted by finding her strip of birth control pills, with the one for that day missing the morning after. Clearly she had taken it before taking off and he doubted she was someone who got lax with medication when daily use was required. Wait, did that mean she'd gone to the clinic to get _tested_? Did she think he would be as careless as to have unprotected sex with her if he had an STD or something? Well, if that didn't just take the cake!

Feeling anger boil up and repressing the memories and accompanying guilt, Jack threw what was left of his ice cream cone in a trashcan and wiped his hands clean with a napkin as he made his way over to his car. Might as well confront her now, he thought to himself as he opened the car door and got in. She was still his assignment and he would have to face her sooner or later. Admittedly, he would have preferred later but now would be as good a time as any. At least he would have his anger, frustration and indignation over her presumptions now and it would even look like he was following his superiors' orders by visiting her just a few hours after the meeting and their insistent urging to reconcile with his charge.

Jack started the engine and quickly drove the SUV into the direction of Sam's house, a route he could probably drive with his eyes closed after all this time and all his visits but he still made sure to drive safely – and with his eyes open – as he thought about what he was going to say to her. Okay, so maybe he hadn't asked her if she was on birth control nor had he had any condoms on him when things started getting out of hand that night, but still! Being in the military meant regular checkups so even if he _would_ have an STD, which he'd never had in his life, it would be caught during one of those exams and he'd get treatment. Wasn't that what he'd assumed about her too? Then why hadn't she reasoned similarly when it came to his health?

He'd also told her he'd been married for a long time, right? Or at least that he was recently divorced, which truthfully was a lie but she didn't know that. Did she think he was one of those heartless bastards that slept around a lot without using protection? Like some of his service friends who'd gotten divorced and were always going on about how they had to catch up after all those years of being married. That was just pathetic, especially since it clearly wasn't working for most of them. Yeah sure, they had a few nice rolls in the hay but they were still alone at the end of the day. Not to mention they probably didn't have any catching up to do considering people in steady relationships usually had more sex than singles, just with one and the same person instead of different… flings. Jack refused to believe Sam thought that lowly of him or that she thought he'd been sleeping around even before his 'divorce' – even though he _was_ cheating on Sara with her now, but that had never happened before – but there wasn't any other reason for her to be at the clinic, for crying out loud!

* * *

><p><strong>1610 hours<strong>**  
><strong>**Liddell Residence****  
><strong>**Rainier, Washington**

Sam was awkwardly trying to stuff the new bandages and tape into her meager first aid kit and grinned triumphantly when she was finally able to close it. One of Dr Nimiziki's nurses had been kind enough to give her some extras after sympathizing with her over the cut on her hand. It hadn't been wrapped as properly as she would have done it on someone else but it had been good enough, even if the nurse had disagreed and insisted on redoing it. Sam hadn't objected and made up an excuse about cutting herself with one of her sharper gardening tools as the woman went about the task. The wound hadn't been her reason for seeing the Doctor though. After thinking about it long and hard she'd finally decided to contact the Doc to get tested.

Realistically it had been stupid of her to have unprotected sex even if the man she was with was her dead husband's counterpart. Just because Jack would have never exposed her to any sexually transmitted diseases – of Earth or off-world origin – didn't mean Colonel O'Neill would act the same. Still, the man was married and even though she preferred not to think about it she couldn't imagine him having a sexless marriage or that Sara would be okay with not being intimate with a Jack O'Neill, so she doubted he would have any diseases. Assuming he was faithful to his wife of course. Granted, the only experience she had with O'Neill seemed to indicate otherwise but she liked to think of their night together as an aberration in his behavior instead of a pattern. However, it would be foolish not to get a test done especially considering she hadn't spoken to the man after falling asleep in his arms. Not to mention the NID or whoever was watching her would expect her to get tested after having unprotected sex with a man she hardly knew.

The fact that the nurse had re-bandaged her self-inflicted wound was just a bonus. So was the first aid material the woman had given her. Now that she'd reached the final stage of testing with her naquadah detector it had been time to test it on her blood. The first few tests would have to be performed with a vial of blood and then once she was certain it worked properly she would move onto diluted blood, by adding a certain amount to a bowl, sink or tub of water. The latter would require minimal amounts of blood and could easily be procured by a somewhat painful 'shaving accident' but the former had needed more, so she had cut her hand to squeeze the blood out.

For a moment Sam had contemplated getting her hands on some needles, proper vials and some other medical stuff but she couldn't afford for anyone to find out she'd made such purchases or get caught stealing them. It had already been very risky to snatch an anticoagulant at the clinic today but at least that way she'd be able to store the blood samples for about three weeks in the fridge. It would be too dangerous for anyone at the clinic or the NID make the connections if she'd stolen all the medical supplies she would have needed, plus the anticoagulant on the day she arrived at the clinic with a suspicious cut on her hand. She grimaced, looking down at her injured hand and the white cotton taped to her arm from where Nimiziki had taken the blood samples. Perhaps having needle marks wouldn't have been as suspicious as she'd initially thought but back then she hadn't planned on bedding Colonel O'Neill – yet.

Well, the first aid kit was restocked, she had added the anticoagulant to the blood samples and stored them in the fridge – hopefully they were well hidden just in case O'Neill or someone else would snoop around in it – and now she was wondering what else to do. She had run out of time to do any tests with her newest doohickey today because of the time she'd spent in the bathroom getting the blood and just now adding the anticoagulant. Perhaps she could sneak off tonight for half an hour or so, pretending she urgently needed the bathroom. The surveillance guys would probably think she was having cramps or something.

Groaning, she went into her walk-in closet and exchanged her short-sleeved shirt for a racerback top, before making a pit stop in the kitchen to get a snack. The Doctor had warned her not to do too much after her blood loss – from the vials he'd taken and the cut in her hand – and make sure to eat something to keep from keeling over. Even though normally she could easily forget a meal or even skip one or more in a day or so, whenever she was injured she had always taken Janet's advice to heart simply because she didn't want to faint in front of her superiors or end up in the infirmary for an extra day again. So, despite not being very hungry or knowing Nimiziki all that well Sam ate her snack like a good little soldier before going out back.

The plant life in her backyard was pathetic and considering the excuse she'd used to the nurse, Sam had decided to work out in the garden. Tommy Riker, the teenager from a few streets away, was still mowing her lawn every now and then for some extra pocket money but there was plenty of other stuff to do. Putting on her worn cap, she grabbed some tools and went to work.

It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes before she heard a heavy footfall on her deck on the other side of the house. If the sound of O'Neill's sneakers hadn't been familiar enough yet his voice calling out her name as he presumably banged on her door was. Even after all this time here she still cringed at being called 'Alice' and maybe, she thought to herself, she had actually gotten a new appreciation for her own name. Maybe 'Sam' wasn't just a boy's name after all, it really did fit her. Much more so than 'Samantha', although she had to admit Jack had this insanely sexy way of speaking her name on occasion, usually when they were making love or cuddling up and he was teasing her.

Another five minutes and her visitor finally made his way around the house and stood scowling at her on the other side of the garden.

"Didn't you hear me knocking or ringing the doorbell?"

"No," Sam said truthfully, resting a hand on her hip as she took a break from her activities and brushed the bangs out of her face.

His eyes narrowed as he walked up to her. "Didn't hear me call your name?"

"Oh, that was you?"

"Funny Sam," he grunted, stopping in front of her.

She frowned as he mirrored her pose perfectly. "I thought I heard someone call out for Alice, I didn't make the connection."

"Ssh!"

Rolling her eyes, Sam simply shrugged. He had called her by her name first! "The neighbors can't hear us from here. What are you doing here anyway, Colonel?"

"Colonel?" He questioned with raised eyebrows, before they lowered and he squinted dangerously at her. "What, 'Jack' isn't good enough anymore?"

"I, eh," she stammered, blushing furiously. Looking down at her bare feet she tried to ignore the memories of having sex with him, how she had hoped he hadn't noticed her calling out his name in strangled cries as he brought her closer to completion. She had totally lost control in his arms and hadn't stopped to think about what to call him.

The bastard was smirking at her when she glanced up again. "I get it," he said slowly, his eyes still dark and he seemed a bit angry despite the casual pose he'd adopted. "Colonel or O'Neill is how you like to think of me but when you're in the throes of passion I'm 'Jack'."

"I-it, it just seemed inappropriate.

"To call me by my rank in bed? Yes, I have to agree," he muttered. "Let's go inside, we need to talk."

Sam shook her head, tightening her grip around the shovel in her hands. "I'd like to stay here. No one can hear us unless we start shouting."

"Fine," he grunted, but there was a hint of suspicion in his eyes. Did he suspect she knew about the bugs?

Well, they should give her some credit, Sam thought to herself. Anyone in this situation would think their place was bugged, even Daniel! They just didn't know she _knew_ where the bugs were exactly and what kind of data they transferred, or what the range of its wireless signal was. He was still staring at her, she realized. "So…"

"So," O'Neill echoed. "Nice note. Haven't had a love letter in years."

She cringed at the sarcasm, thinking of a good reply. "Um… I was glad you didn't ignore it." It was true, she had feared he might just be waiting for her when she got back. Looking at his dark expression though she figured that wasn't what he'd wanted to hear.

"Yeah well, I tend not to stick around where I'm not wanted."

"I needed time to think," Sam tried to explain.

He ran a hand through his silver hair and let out a huff. "And here I was thinking you'd gone for a run."

"Both."

"Ah."

"I'm on the pill," Sam blurted out, to her embarrassment. Grimacing, she shrugged and held his gaze. "Of course, you already knew that."

Now it was his turn to cringe, probably remembering the state he'd left her bathroom – or at least its counter – in. "Sorry about that… I just had to know."

"I should have said so."

"I could have asked," he countered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I'm clean, by the way."

Gulping, she lowered her eyes, glancing at the white cotton still strapped to her arm before darting back to his face. "I'm clean too but I couldn't stand the uncertainty so I got tested."

"I know."

"You do?" Sam questioned, one eyebrow shooting up.

"I saw you on the base, figured that's why you were there."

She gnawed her lip, recognizing he wasn't as calm about this as he pretended; she could still read him like a book. "Oh. We should have used a condom."

"Yep." When she frowned he shrugged. "I didn't have any."

So, perhaps he hadn't come with the intention of seducing her. Still, she was convinced that was his assignment, so maybe he'd just been building up to it before she'd caught him off guard or maybe he just hadn't thought about it since he'd been married for so long. "Me neither," she admitted with a small blush. "I didn't mean to-"

"I know," O'Neill interrupted her. "I remember what you said."

"Yeah well, we said a lot," she replied with a mirthless chuckle. It were the actions that counted, after all.

"I don't normally do stuff like this."

"Like what?"

He gestured between the two of them, seeming ill at ease. "… what we did."

"Have sex?" Sam was unable to keep it in and grinned at his flushed face. Deciding to give him a moment, she turned back to her gardening.

"I meant," he coughed awkwardly as he stood next to her. "You know, have sex with other women. I mean, other than my wife. Ex-wife."

She barely kept her control at his blatant lie and instead just nodded. "How long ago did you divorce?"

"It's, eh, fairly recent."

Ah, so right around the time they released her from custody probably, she thought darkly. How could he lie to her like that? Did he really think she wouldn't notice? "Do you still love her?" The question stunned both of them; it hadn't been her intention to ask something so personal and potentially painful to herself; he might be her Jack's counterpart but she knew Jack still cared for Sara too and she had always wondered what would have happened if Charlie had lived. Even if they'd met somehow, would they have fallen in love? Would Jack have left Sara for her? Angry with herself Sam shook her head at the scenario her twisted brain was conjuring. There was no reason to torture herself with questions like those. Besides, she would have never allowed herself to fall for him if he'd been married – or at least deny it with her dying breath.

"Yeah," O'Neill said slowly, a look of pure concentration on his face as he stared at the plants. "I don't think I'd ever stop. The love just changes over time, you know."

"Yes," she murmured. Of course Jack would still love Sara. It didn't mean he loved her any less. Sam knew for a fact she and Jack were better suited together than he and Sara had ever been because of their shared experiences and military mindset. Still, Sara had been his first love and they'd had a child together. There was no reason for her to be jealous of Jack's ex-wife and in all honesty Sam knew she wasn't and never had been. It was just strange to be confronted with a situation like this one. Her mind was going light-years a minute until she pressed the depressing thoughts to the back of her mind. "I don't want to be your rebound," she said all of a sudden, knowing she had to change the subject. If she hadn't been his assignment he never would have slept with her nor would he have shown up here like this today.

His dark eyes fell on her until he turned away. "You're not."

"Why are you here then?"

After a moment he was beside her again, a pensive look on his face and some gardening tools in his hands. "I don't know," he blew out a breath. "I guess I wanted to tell you not to worry."

"Thank you."

There was a flash of surprise on his face before he leaned down and started removing weeds. "I should have said something earlier, or maybe written _you_ a note."

Sam snorted, wondering about the change in his mood. When he got here he'd been angry and frustrated, it had been easy to tell for her. Now, he seemed more resigned. Maybe it was the reassurance that she hadn't accused him of taking advantage of her or that they'd discussed this reasonably. Or perhaps it was the outdoorsy factor, who knew with Jack O'Neill. "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?" He asked, looking genuinely confused. When she simply raised a brow and waved her hand back and forth in a 'me' gesture, he flushed again. "Oh, eh… I don't know. I, um, I wanted to but not yet."

"Wanted to wait until the third date?"

"Cute."

Smiling, she relaxed a bit. Maybe there really was something to this gardening thing, she thought to herself as they fell into a companionable silence again. Recounting what they'd discussed in her head, Sam broke the silence after a few minutes. "I don't want to be your pet project, either."

"My what?"

"You've been assigned to keep an eye on me. It's inappropriate to get involved."

O'Neill nodded slowly, pulling harder on some weeds. "Something tells me you've got experience with that."

"Excuse me?" Sam cried, throwing the shovel down and turning to face him.

"You and the other me," he said simply, as if he hadn't just thrown the accusation in her face. "He was your commanding officer."

Clenching her jaw, she glared at him. "Nothing happened."

"Really?"

"Really," she reiterated in a deadly calm voice.

O'Neill clearly recognized the tone as he straightened up to give her his full attention. "You don't eat Frootees. At first I thought you didn't like them at all, but I know you ate some during that first movie."

"You're going with Frootees?" She asked dryly, trying to be as dismissive as possible.

"It's a number of things," he clarified. "Those are just one. You're attracted to me, you can't deny that. I wasn't sure initially but it became clear in Atlantic City. Plus, we had sex."

"I remember…"

Despite the seriousness of the situation O'Neill snorted, shaking his head with a small smile. "You better," he muttered under his breath. "The way you, eh, touched me."

Sam was confused for a moment until she saw the blush on his cheeks and realized he was referring to their night together. "Yes…?"

"I didn't know if you were just that confident and that, er, good," he took a deep breath and she suspected he'd wanted to say something like 'experienced' but had stopped himself. "You knew about sweet spots I didn't even know I had."

"Oh," she said softly. It had occurred to her the morning after that she had acted too familiar with him. She had known exactly how to push him, what he liked even if he didn't know it yet and there had been no hesitation on her part at all. There had been the vain hope he wouldn't have noticed but of course he had.

Colonel O'Neill cleared his throat awkwardly, his cheeks still burning in embarrassment as he turned back to the plants. "All that convinced me you two were involved but I have a hard time believing you would screw the frat regs; you seem like a good officer. So…?"

"There was a, eh… er, an attraction between us when he was my CO but we didn't act on it," Sam replied. He looked skeptical so she decided to elaborate carefully phrased. "It was against the regs and something I would never do, but we weren't compromised. Trust me, we've been in several dangerous situations and we made the right decisions despite our feelings."

"Okay… that still doesn't explain everything though."

She shrugged, looking at his profile. "We dated briefly after we were both reassigned and out of the same chain of command."

"And?"

"I was transferred back," she muttered. "It was supposed to be temporary, just because they needed my expertise in a certain situation but it became permanent…"

He looked at her, his brown eyes sympathetic as he searched her face for something. Apparently he was satisfied with what he found because he nodded briefly. "That brought you back into the same chain of command."

"Yep," Sam replied, deciding to leave out the part where they had gotten married so they could remain together. He didn't have to know everything and that particular tidbit would give him way too much power over her.

"I'm sorry," O'Neill murmured softly before turning back to the garden. He continued pulling out weeds as she watched him move around, until he'd made it full circle and was standing on her other side. "Why did you do it?"

She blanched for a moment, wondering what he was referring to exactly. When he cocked his head to the side like a curious little boy she realized he meant _them_, not her and Jack. "I'm not sure. You were right, I am attracted to you and I think it was pretty clear we both wanted it despite not wanting to rush it."

"It was," he affirmed.

"This life," she gestured around the garden, "it's lonely. I can't talk to anyone about who I really am."

The Colonel closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "Except me."

It was the best she could come up with so she let out a deep sigh and bobbed her head. "Yes. It's frustrating, I miss my life and my friends. I can't talk about the things I like or know and no one can even know my real name."

"Except me," he reiterated in an even more resigned tone. His guilt seemed to increase somewhat and to her shock it pleased her.

It wasn't that she didn't like him but they both knew what his assignment was and it didn't take a genius to realize his true motivation for getting close to her. "It's difficult to settle into such a life. I can't picture myself here in ten years, not like this."

"Maybe…" O'Neill cleared his throat and suddenly his fingers entwined with hers. "Maybe I can help."

_That you can_, Sam thought to herself. Just not the way he was implying, at least not in her grand plan. For now, it would do. She hated being weak like this, needing him but she was tired of sleeping alone and if she could just get a moment here and there then she could keep on going, knowing what awaited her at home. "Maybe you can."


	29. Day Seventy Five of a New Life

**Day 75  
>Liddell Residence<br>Rainier, Washington**

The slowly rising sun was already heating up the bedroom despite the early hour and it had woken Jack up about half an hour ago but instead of moving he simply lay staring at the ceiling. To his surprise Sam was still asleep, their pillows close together but she had rolled off and away from him some time during the night. He had expected her to be up way before him considering the morning after they'd first slept together and her early bird behavior during their trip to Atlantic City. Now he was conflicted as what to do; wait for her to wake up in bed, sneak off to the bathroom and then get back into bed or just get up, take a shower and make breakfast?

If he were honest the option of getting up and getting _out_ had crossed his mind but after the conversation they'd had yesterday, in which they had basically decided to see if this attraction between them could become a 'real' relationship, he didn't think that was a good idea. Still, he was unsure about what to do in a situation like this. It had been over three decades since he had been dating and most of that had been in between assignments so it was never anything serious, with the exception of when he and Sara got together to make a go of it. But those circumstances had been completely different than the situation he found himself in now.

It hadn't been his intention at all to fall into bed with Sam again when he'd come over here yesterday, let alone spend the night. In fact, he'd been rather pissed and frustrated with his latest orders in general and her 'goodbye' note, lack of communication and subsequent visit to the clinic in specific. But as they really started talking he had realized he wasn't the only one struggling with what had happened between them and he'd been surprised with her honesty. She could have easily lied about several things or deny she had been involved with the other him at some point, but instead she had opened up to him and shared some of her feelings about the life his government had created for her.

Jack had sympathized with her, especially knowing his superiors and the NID had known this would happen when they'd given him his assignment. MacKenzie had even advised him as how to treat Sam, to keep her vulnerable and slightly unsettled with her new identity by becoming her confidant so to speak. At the time he had been disgusted with his new orders but had accepted them because of Tyler and hadn't really thought all that much about how it would impact her. Back then she had still been that freak he'd saved from the ice, although he had been impressed with her attitude during those five weeks of incarceration and interrogations. Since they had gone on their road trip and spent more time together he had gotten to know her better. Like her even.

Sam was surprisingly good company even if she was reticent about her personal life, experiences and knowledge and hearing how lonely and miserable she felt yesterday had made him feel bad. Worse than he already felt, truthfully. It was just one more thing to add to the guilt that had been plaguing him lately. Hearing her confess something so private and honest had morphed his anger about recent events into compassion. It almost made him want to comfort her, which he recognized was a bad sign since he had to keep his head in the game. Despite her misery Jack couldn't just trust her. Or maybe it was _because_ of her misery. After all, if she missed her old life so much and was unsatisfied with the new one they'd given her then she had very good reason to want to fix the timeline – and erase Tyler.

His assignment included helping her settle into this life, make sure she would get attached to him and while it made him feel bad to use her admission to his advantage, he had reached out to her and more or less offered her his help. Be that as a friend, shoulder to cry on, comfort or lover he didn't know, the words had just come out of his mouth before he'd thought them through – and he was pretty sure she didn't know either, but she'd still accepted it. Afterwards she had ordered takeout and they'd eaten it outside on the grass in the evening sun. Knowing there weren't any bugs keeping tabs on them there had made him feel better but also wonder if Sam knew, or at least suspected there was surveillance in the rest of the house.

In the end he had pushed that thought to the back of his mind – it wouldn't help him one way or another anyway – and continued their work in the garden as Sam put the trash away and did the dishes. By the time she had come outside again he had already discarded his shirt, sweaty from the task and the warm summer evening and together they'd finished up. He had barely put the gardening tools away before she had caught him off guard and more or less jumped him – he had to admit he'd thought she looked pretty hot too, with her skin glowing from the mild tan and slight sheen of perspiration and her flushed cheeks from the hard work.

The kissing had gotten out of hand fast, just like last time and before he knew it her hands were unbuckling and unbuttoning his jeans! Jack had stopped her, to which she'd uttered something between a whimper and a growl that had sent his blood racing and then he'd maneuvered her back inside the house. Like hell he was going to get undressed any further in her backyard! They had only just stumbled through the doors of the dining room when Sam had resumed her mission one handed, using the other to pull her own top off. He'd gladly helped her on their way to the bedroom but made sure not to lose his jeans – and thus the small jamming device – before they reached it. No way was he going to give anyone the satisfaction of listening in!

Now, almost twelve hours later here they were, back in her bed. It really hadn't been his intention to get here but damn, he hadn't been able to resist. Maybe he hadn't really wanted to, deep down, his conscience suggested. They'd had sex, twice, and while she had seemed less desperate and frenzied, she'd still been equally demanding and passionate, making it just as arousing and his climax as powerful as the first time. Up until he'd come down from his high of course and the guilt set back in. Not just towards his family but to Sam as well.

Jack had already felt bad about taking advantage of her but he felt awful now knowing the truth about her brief relationship with his counterpart. From her passion, her responsiveness and attraction to him and what she'd told him yesterday it became clear to him that she still had feelings for the other him, but they'd been forced to stop dating when she got back into the same chain of command. Not to mention that Sam had told him a while ago that the guy had remarried…

Perhaps, he thought, the NID had actually been onto something by giving him this assignment. Obviously they hadn't known about her involvement with the alternate O'Neill but it looked like they had gotten lucky; if Sam still had feelings for the unattainable man she might not mind sticking around here as long as he himself could keep up this 'relationship' of theirs. God, that was just wrong on so many levels!

His eyes slid over to her sleeping form next to him, the sheets just barely covering her hips showing him the creamy expanse of her back. Her blond hair was tousled, falling way beyond her shoulders and covering most of the freckled skin he'd already discovered. Jack couldn't blame his counterpart for falling for Sam, even if she had been his 2IC. Hell, he was married himself and technically she was his charge, but even he had already accepted how easily he could fall for her if the circumstances had been different. There was just something vibrant and engaging about her and combined with her brains, looks and sense of humor… well, let's just say it was clear to him.

Jack's thoughts were just returning to the shitty situation he found himself in and what it meant for his family, when Sam stirred and rolled over to face him. "Hey sleepy head," he murmured softly.

"Hi," she replied, after brushing her hair out of her face. Rubbing her eyes, she blinked her blue orbs a few times before she beamed at him.

His heart nearly skipped a beat at that smile and he quickly pushed that alarming realization away, giving her a small grin in return. "I didn't think you ever slept this long."

Sam leaned up slightly to look at the alarm clock on the nightstand next to him, either unaware of uncaring of the view she gave him of her naked body with the move. "It's not even 0800 yet," she huffed.

"But you're such an earl-"

His reply was cut short by her soft mouth on his, kissing him slowly and leisurely. "Good morning." Her breathless greeting sounded rather seductive to him but that could be down to her flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes.

"G'morning," Jack replied, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear before leaning in for another kiss.

Breaking off the kiss before it got too intense, Sam smirked at him and rolled over again. To his surprise she got up and walked to the adjoining bathroom. "I'll be right back," she said.

Jack just followed her with his eyes, taking in every curve, freckle and scar of her body in detail until her naked form disappeared behind the door. It was the first time he'd really her seen naked in daylight and damn, she was just as hot as he remembered from when he'd walked in on her in the shower during their overnight stop in Minnesota. And, like he'd expected back then she was simply gorgeous when she lowered her guard and smiled more.

Not only that but he had also gotten to know her a lot better since that day in the motel. She had a great personality as well and considering some of the accomplishments she and her two friends had shared with them he was pretty sure she was heroic – yet modest – too. In addition, she was smart as a whip, had a wicked sense of humor and was tough and independent. Just like he had suspected ever since rescuing her off the ice he knew he was in deep trouble when it came to Samantha Carter…

That was only reaffirmed when the bathroom door opened a few minutes later and Sam, still undressed, walked out, smiling at him. Jack silently chastised himself as his body betrayed him at the sight of her but she didn't seem to notice. It appeared she really wasn't all that self-conscious or maybe she just had a healthy dose of confidence, he didn't know but it was yet another aspect of her he found attractive. These days there were so many women with hang-ups about their body, including his wife and some of her friends he'd overheard on occasion that it was refreshing to see how comfortable Sam was with the way she looked.

Of course, she _was_ good looking so perhaps it wasn't that strange, but at the same time he didn't really understand Sara's issues either because to him she looked great too. Not that he couldn't see the differences between the two women or was unaware of Sara's wrinkles, graying hair or how her body wasn't as slim and trim as it used to be. To him it was only natural and it didn't bother him at all, but maybe women were different in that respect. Still, while Sam had a pretty face and perhaps a better toned body than his wife, she also had her fair share of scars. Some obvious, others not so much. But she didn't seem to care about those or feel the need to cover up her body, either in bed or apparently out of it.

When Sam shot him a funny look he pushed his wife out of his mind and tried to focus on the situation at hand, like he usually did with all his missions. "Something wrong?"

She seemed amused that he was asking her that, probably because he'd been the one staring at her while she was picking up their clothes from last night. "Do you want some breakfast?"

"Sure," Jack mumbled as he sat up. It was probably for the best to get up and he was feeling a bit hungry. He wasn't sure he should get out of bed _now_ though, since she might interpret his, eh, interest the wrong way.

"Eggs?" Sam asked as she folded the last of the clothes.

He nodded and was pleased to see her heading into her walk-in closet, assuming she was getting dressed or at least put something on. It was distracting him and he really didn't want the NID to catch her on tape while parading around naked in the living room or kitchen. Using it as an opportunity, he dashed towards the bathroom door. "I'm just going to take a shower and get dressed, okay?"

She walked out, dressed in a satiny robe-thing and appeared to be smirking at him for hiding his body behind the opened door, only his head peeking out into the master bedroom. "Okay. Make it quick or else breakfast will get cold."

"Yes Ma'am," he grinned, closing the door just as she rolled her eyes at him. Now he would just have to take a cold shower and get through breakfast knowing she's probably not wearing anything underneath that flimsy piece of cloth. Luckily he had the very real excuse of having to go to base afterwards, for some paperwork and some of his own investigating into Therra Carlin and her company…

* * *

><p><strong>Day 77<br>Olympia Timberland Library  
>Olympia, Washington<strong>

Sam awkwardly climbed back in through the ladies room's window and lowered herself on the floor with a soft thud, making sure to land on her toes so her two-inch heels wouldn't make a loud and suspicious noise on the tiled floor. For all she knew there was someone from the NID waiting close by the door. She straightened her skirt, washed her hands and redid her hair in front of the mirror. Her fake glasses went back into their case in her bag, which weighed a lot less now that she'd dropped off her newly completed computer program and the necessary additional components for the salvaging ship's sensors to the post office around the corner.

To her surprise she had been able to finish her tests without too much bloodshed and much sooner than she had expected. At first she had worried that starting a so-called relationship with O'Neill would mean it'd take her longer because she had to be extra careful with him around but with him fast asleep she had gotten quite a lot of work done in the middle of the night. Initially she figured sticking to her regular schedule would be best but when she'd been lying awake in his arms, with him dead to the world and her own mind suddenly reminding her of how wrong her actions were she had slipped out and worked for another two hours. Having him spent the night twice had given her ample opportunity to fine tune the device she had created and now it was complete and ready to be implemented on the ship.

If everything went as planned it would arrive at the salvaging company later today, tomorrow morning at the latest and then it would be installed per her accompanied instructions. If there were any difficulties she was sure one of the recently hired engineers could work it out and then there would be nothing keeping the new personnel from taking the ship out and locating the shipwreck with her naquadah detector. It was an exciting moment and one she would have preferred to share with someone else, but she couldn't risk it. Clearly O'Neill was out and it was too dangerous to contact Daniel or Cam. Besides, Daniel would be informed soon by the company to make sure he was ready in case the divers found the cargo they were hired to salvage.

Leaving the ladies room to return to her little corner in the library Sam could already feel her heart speed up as adrenaline kicked in in anticipation of the upcoming events, but she schooled her features carefully. Knowing the ship would be searching the seabed soon meant she was another step closer to really going home. At the same time it made her miss the action; if only she could be aboard the ship during the search and salvage! Even if she couldn't do any of the diving, that was best left to the professionals, she would at least know if what they needed to fix the timeline was still on the bottom of that ocean since the 1930s.

God, this was worse than taking command of Atlantis and standing on the sidelines while the people under her command went out on missions! Technically she was closer to the action now than when she'd been stationed in the Pegasus Galaxy but now those twenty-five hundred miles or so felt farther away than the closest planet to her beloved alien city. It was a strange realization, she thought as she settled down in her chair and reached for the book she hadn't really been reading. But at least she had known the people at the SGC and Atlantis to be capable and the people that had been hired by Therra's company were an unknown factor to her. She would have to rely on the meager updates she would receive by email from Melinda and then wait for _the _most important phone call in her life from Daniel, to tell her everything was ready.

Sam silently wondered how that would go and when the call would come. There was a three-hour time difference between them so there was a good chance Daniel would call when she was in bed, either because he was working through the night or had started early in the morning. What if she wasn't alone? Not only would it be difficult to explain why someone was calling her in the middle of the night, especially if O'Neill found out it was Daniel, but she wasn't even supposed to have the prepaid cell phone! Well, she'd just have to cross that bridge when she'd come to it…

Thinking of O'Neill made her check her watch, recalling he was supposed to come over for dinner. It was strange how they'd fallen into this pattern so quickly. It had been the same with Jack, one of the most comfortable transitions into a relationship but she'd figured that was because they'd known each other for so long and so well. There had been no awkwardness because they'd seen each other through their best and worst. In a way it wasn't that much different now, considering the similarities between the two men but at the same time she hardly knew O'Neill and he knew even less of her.

Then again, they both had their own motivation for pursuing this relationship and had gotten into bed pretty fast, which they'd both admitted. There hadn't even been any real dating although some might say the flirting had been there since their road trip, which perhaps wasn't all that different from how she and Jack had gotten together. They had flirted over the years and pretty much knew how they felt about each other so dating had seemed a bit pointless. But she would be the first to admit that she'd rushed things with O'Neill, maybe even been a bit careless.

It was a bit ironic that they had discussed what had happened between them a few days ago and had only tentatively agreed to 'see each other', so they could find out if there was a 'future' for their so-called relationship, when they had already ended up in bed together again. That was mostly her fault too as she had come onto him but that was only because her emotions were running high that day and working side by side in the garden, with him bare-chested and sweaty had reminded her so much of her days with Jack at the cabin that she'd been powerless to resist. Besides, they could get to know each other better at dinner tonight and maybe breakfast tomorrow. It wasn't as if she could tell him everything about her life and she doubted he would tell her anything about his personal life, so in the end they would probably only exchange half-truths.

Realizing what time it was Sam closed the novel she hadn't been reading at all and placed it back among the other books before making her way to her car. It had only been a short trip to Olympia, just a few hours spent in the library to cover her quick visit to the post office in case anyone was still watching her. Now she was on her way home again, making sure she arrived in time for O'Neill's visit. Dinner had been casually mentioned when he left for base but she had no idea if he expected her to cook or not. She figured Sara was the kind of woman who would have meals ready the minute he came home, but simply put she wasn't Sara. He knew that and she'd already confessed to being a lousy cook, even if she may have exaggerated it a bit simply because she didn't _like_ to cook.

She wasn't going to stop him if he wanted to do any of the cooking though. Or she would just order takeout. There wasn't as much choice in the small town as she was used to but almost everything was better than the commissary food she'd grown accustomed to. Either way, there was no point in her doing some grocery shopping if she was going to get takeout or if O'Neill was doing the cooking, since she had no idea what he had in mind and therefore expected him to bring his own ingredients or make something of the stuff lying around her kitchen. It also meant she was steering into her driveway thirty-one minutes after leaving the library.

Sam was relieved he wasn't there yet waiting for her because she'd just remembered there were still two blood vials left hidden in the fridge, which he might come across if he went looking around for something edible. Most of the vials had been used in the early testing phases and she had even emptied one last night in the sink filled with water to test the doohickey's ability to detect submerged naquadah. Just to make sure the anticoagulant hadn't influenced the readings somehow she had also used fresh blood once she'd moved on to the testing in the bathtub, but she had forgotten the two leftover vials in the refrigerator.

It didn't take her long to get rid of and she was just trying to decide if they should eat outside or inside and if so, in the dining room or in the living room when she heard a car park outside. Takeout could easily be eaten on the couch and she wasn't really in the mood for a semi-romantic dinner; it was too dangerous for her at the moment. It was one thing to keep her husband and the Colonel separated in her mind while having a sexual relationship with the latter, but in reality the lines were easily blurred. It wouldn't do for her to make herself more vulnerable and confused when it came to O'Neill. That was also why she decided against eating outside on the grass in the evening sun, it simply brought back too many memories of days spent at the cabin.

Going over to the door she greeted O'Neill slightly absentmindedly and stepped aside to let him in. He was muttering about heavy traffic on the road, none of which she'd experienced, as he shrugged out of his jacket and she closed the door, feeling a bit unsure of what to do.

"Oh, erm," he looked sheepish and took the two steps necessary to reach her. "Hi!"

Sam startled when he awkwardly pressed a kiss to her cheek before fidgeting nervously. "Um…"

"I'm sorry," O'Neill apologized, waving his hand around vaguely and not really looking at her. "It's just that this is… so, er, new."

"Yeah." She had been closer to saying 'weird' but seeing his flushed cheeks somehow made her feel a bit more at ease. At least she wasn't the only one who felt uncomfortable about this. It also dawned on her that this was the first time they'd really greeted each other as a couple or whatever they were and she briefly wondered if that was how he greeted his wife when he came home. It was very different from what she was used to, that's for sure. "Let's just, er, go with what feels natural instead of doing what you think you should be doing, okay?"

He nodded eagerly, clearly relieved that the awkward moment had passed and turned back to actually hang up his coat. "Sounds good to me."

When he turned back around Sam was standing in front of him and leaned up, placing her hand in the nape of his neck to pull him down. Her eyes had already fluttered closed when she felt his breath on her cheek and her lips found his unerringly. The kiss started out slow, just a light almost teasingly touching of lips as they glided against each other but then his tongue peeked out to trace the contours of her mouth, making Sam dig her nails into his skin. It spurred him on, his tongue probing more insistent until she parted her lips and it slipped into her mouth. His hand came up, tangling in her locks as she tasted him leisurely, moaning softly when their tongues found each other again.

Suddenly his arms wrapped around her and pulled her against him, making her aware of how much the kiss was affecting him. O'Neill growled when she nipped his lip and the kiss grew more passionate, his tongue almost aggressive as it delved into her mouth again while she dragged her fingers through his hair with her nails scraping his scalp softly. He pushed her against the wall, pinning her there with his heavy frame as his fingers skimmed up her sides, teasing her before he placed them on the side of her neck, holding her back as he broke off the kiss. His hand moved higher, trailing along her jaw until he brushed his fingers over her swollen lips while he kissed his way down her neck.

"Hi," Sam murmured, tugging gently on his hair until he looked up.

"Hi?" O'Neill's eyes were dark, pupils dilated until the brown irises were hardly noticeable and he was breathing heavily. His lips shimmered with her gloss and she quickly ran her thumb along them, wiping it off because she knew Jack didn't like the sticky feeling.

She would have laughed if he hadn't looked so puzzled and incredibly hot, so she settled on a small smile. Clearly their greeting had gotten a bit out of hand… "Yeah, remember?"

"Oh," he cleared his throat awkwardly and took a step back. It didn't escape her how his hands tugged down his shirt. "Right. So, erm, what's for dinner?"

Sam chuckled at how he tilted his head slightly and smiled that boyish grin of his, with his hair sticking up in every direction. "Takeout?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Want me to call already?"

He nodded and gestured towards the side corridor. "I'm just going to use the bathroom. Be right back."

She couldn't help herself and smirked when he passed her by. "Taking a cold shower?"

"Oh for crying out loud!" He muttered as he stalked off.

It didn't take her long to pick out dinner and she'd just ordered when he got back, looking remarkably calmed down but otherwise the same. She handed him the menu to show him what she'd ordered before moving to the fridge to get them both something to drink. "Dinner will be here within thirty minutes. Do you want a beer?"

* * *

><p><strong>Day 78<br>Liddell Residence  
>Rainier, Washington<strong>

Sam woke up early, even before the sun was up and after disentangling herself from O'Neill's legs and arms without waking him she quietly made her way over to the bathroom. It didn't take her long to use the toilet, take a quick shower and brush her teeth and eight minutes later she walked back into the bedroom, surprised to see him awake. "Good morning."

His dark eyes immediately latched onto her, as if he'd been wondering where she was and he leaned up a bit. "G'morning," he muttered, his voice still rough from sleep. "Coming back to bed? It's still early."

She was tempted to say no, after all she'd just showered but he looked so adorable with his ruffled silver hair and sleepy eyes that she gave in. "Fine…"

"Excellent! C'mere," his arm wrapped around her before her feet had even left the floor.

"Oooh," she yelped when he dragged her over and she fell into him. "You're in a good mood…"

"Why wouldn't I be? I have a beautiful naked woman in my bed!"

Groaning, she slapped his chest and ignored his eyebrow waggle as she settled down on the mattress, resting her head on his arm. "At what time do you have to go?"

"In an hour or so."

From his tone it was clear he didn't like it and that probably meant he thought there wasn't enough time for them to have sex, but just lying here in his arms was good too. "Okay. Are you staying for breakfast?"

"Dunno, I kind of like it here," O'Neill murmured, nuzzling her hair. "It's cozy and warm."

"Okay." Sam was just fine with that as she was never all that hungry in the morning anyway and was used to skipping breakfast in favor of a cup of coffee and an early start at work from the time at the SGC and Atlantis, so she snuggled closer and rested her cheek on his chest.

After lying together for ten minutes or so his hand slid down her hip to her thigh and back up. She could feel him tense a bit under her as his fingers retraced their steps, skimming the scar there. The thickened skin wasn't as sensitive as it had been before her encounter with the Kull Warrior but it wasn't numb either, making her squirm a bit when his fingers continued to trail over it until she pushed his hand away. "It's annoying," she muttered.

He tipped up her chin to look her in the eye before brushing her hair behind her ear. "Sorry, I was just wondering."

"An explosion," Sam replied after a beat.

"Hm?"

"The scar."

"Ah," he nodded, as if hadn't really been asking.

Sam stiffened when he clasped his hand around her thigh again, his fingers tracing the scar briefly. It wasn't that she was self-conscious about her scars or that they were painful but she was just reluctant to discuss them since it usually meant coming up with a cover story. Plus this particular scar brought up some bad memories, with all the people they'd lost at the Alpha Site, her Dad almost dying and her own escape from the Super Soldier without knowing if backup would be in time… Not to mention how she'd decided to just give in right before Jack and Teal'c had shown up and how her return to base had been tempered by the ending of the Tau'ri-Tok'ra-Jaffa Alliance.

"Did it hurt?"

"At the time? Not really."

O'Neill shifted under her so he could roll onto his side and face her, his hand still resting on her raised thigh just underneath the scar. "It's a large scar. Shrapnel?"

"Something like that," she admitted. His expression spoke of disbelief so she shrugged. "The base was going to self-destruct so my, eh…" She cleared her throat, belatedly realizing this wasn't a good moment to confess about her Dad having become a Tok'ra, not that she was planning on _ever_ sharing that tidbit of information. "The scientists gave me the prototype of a power source we were working on, thinking I had more experience and had a better chance of getting out. I didn't make it out of the blast radius in time, got knocked out and when I came to… well, there was a nice piece of metal stuck in my leg."

"So… you escaped and lived happily ever after?"

Grinning, Sam bobbed her head. Pleased that he didn't ask more questions; clearly he was used to classified missions. "Yeah sure you betcha." Figuring now it was her turn, she traced a small scar on his side, unfamiliar to her. "Bullet wound?"

"Um, yeah," O'Neill said, seemingly surprised by her guess. Then he chuckled, scrubbing a hand over his face before glancing in her direction. "Guess you have some experience with those too, huh?"

"Believe it or not, but I'm more used to burn wounds. Really," she added when he just raised his brows. "Our primitive projectile weapons aren't that popular around the galaxy. We usually got shot at with energy blasts or a laser-type based weapon."

His eyebrows knitted together in a frown for a moment before he blew out a deep breath. "No shit. Damn. So, our MP5s against big honking space guns? That's just not fair…"

"Tell me about it."

The corner of his mouth quirked up at her muttered reply but his eyes gave her a quick onceover, from her thigh to her hair and pausing briefly on the scar tissue on the left side of her abdomen. The Ori staff weapon blast that had nearly killed her. "Ah crap, I have to get going. We'll finish this show and tell later, okay?"

Sam didn't even get a chance to answer because he stole a quick kiss and slid out of the bed. "Maybe," she muttered, watching as he grinned roguishly and pulled on his clothes from yesterday.

"See ya," O'Neill replied as he came over to her side of the bed and gave her another kiss before leaving.


	30. Day Eighty Eight of a New Life

**Day 88  
>McChord Air Force Base<br>Lakewood, Washington**

The weekly meeting had started almost two hours ago and Jack suppressed a sigh as Hank and Simmons continued to bicker – there really wasn't another word for it. Clearly the NID operative didn't care that Hank had been a major general and all that seemed to matter to him was that Hank was _retired_ now and should be grateful he was even read in on the situation. The two-star's presence appeared to be merely tolerated by the NID even though the higher ups had been the ones to give Landry the temporary advisory role he now held.

Jack was fine with that. As a matter of fact, he was pleased with Hank and the NID turning on each other. Obviously Kennedy and Simmons wanted to run the operation and with Hammond and himself the only ones holding back, they'd had Hank on their side. But it seemed like something had come between his former friend and Intelligence, even before they'd entered the room. Perhaps it was merely a difference of opinion on how to proceed with the trio – Sam, Jackson and the flyboy – or maybe it was completely unrelated. He had to admit to himself that it was also possible the NID was scheming without letting any of them in on it, thereby pissing off Hank.

Right now he found he didn't really care, as long as they were going to quit soon. It had been a long day for him and he felt drained after having tracked down a few leads on Therra Carlin. So far he had nothing substantial and after flying all over the country for the last four days all he could really confirm was that the elementary school she'd gone to really had burned down, including their records. Most of the teachers there had moved on since then, some had died in the fire and another handful had passed away by now. One was institutionalized and another was suffering from dementia. There had only been one little old lady left and he'd visited her – she'd made a great apple pie – but she had been unable to help him, only having retired four years ago and unable to recall one little girl from thirty years ago out of all the students she'd taught in her career.

The rest of Ms Carlin's school career was being checked out by Farrity, who'd called him back a few days ago to inform him the finances on the salvaging company were basically untraceable. He'd said it wasn't all that uncommon in the salvaging world and the only way he – or rather his colleague – could find out more about the money's paper trail was if he were to launch an official investigation and Jack had reluctantly accepted that was a dead end. There was no way his 'buddy' could justify something like that and he himself simply didn't have the pull to demand one. Perhaps there would have been a chance if the NID and OSI hadn't already looked into the company and its owner but with them not finding anything wrong with it there was nothing he could do about it.

He'd once again reminded Farrity not to look into Charles Dodgson, since the NID and OSI had flagged them in the system for a reason. Jack wasn't sure but he thought it was possible the FBI Agent might alert them of his unofficial investigation and it wasn't really the archeologist he needed the information on anyway. There was no need – not yet at least – to let Hammond, Hank and the NID know that he was conducting his own investigation into the circumstances of Jackson's job, the marine company the guy seemed so eager to work at and the mystery owner with the too perfect background. Although Jack thought there was a good chance his CO, General Hammond, already suspected this; the man was shrewd and somehow seemed to know exactly what he would do or say in a certain situation. Still, if no one told him to stop there really wasn't any harm in doing a little research, right?

Farrity had also told him that the salvaging company had sent their ship out onto the Atlantic Ocean earlier this week, after they'd sent in one of their engineers presumably to check out the leased ship and then loaded it up with their equipment. Colonel Simmons had confirmed the news by sharing what he'd learned from Maybourne, who was still keeping an eye on Mitchell and Jackson. Apparently Jackson had been busy with buying some equipment and research material he might need once the ship had found whichever shipwreck they were looking for and salvaged it, or its cargo.

However, if Jack were honest with himself he'd found he really didn't care all that much about it, at the moment. It pissed him off like hell but it hadn't taken him long to realize he was missing Sam's company these past four days he'd been gone. Over the years it had become habit to push all thoughts of his family out of his mind when he was doing a mission, but while he'd succeeded at that for most of the past two weeks it had turned out to be more difficult when it came to Sam. After all, she _was_ part of his current assignment and since they'd embarked on their fake relationship he had spent almost every night at her house. Right up until the last few days, when he decided he should do some legwork of his own instead of relying on Farrity, computer files and whatnot when it came to Therra Carlin, since it was clear that if part of the woman's background was faked it had clearly been altered digitally.

The lack of results had put a damper on his mood though, which had only soured more once it had dawned on him that the reason he was feeling like crap was because he missed Sam. He'd already known he liked her but it had been like a kick to the stomach to realize how close he was to falling for her. Ever since Atlantic City there had been moments where he'd wondered if he had somehow fallen under her spell or something, but to actually find himself thinking about her when he was supposed to be alert and tracking down leads…

Caring for his charge wasn't one of the requirements for his assignments and it certainly wasn't something he could afford. He was married for crying out loud and Sam would probably betray him in a heartbeat if she could get her precious timeline back! It was a rookie mistake and yet Jack knew it would have been impossible for him _not_ to care about her if he had to sleep with her. Or maybe it was the other way around. He simply didn't think he was capable of having meaningless sex, not at his age anyway. But after this short little break from Samantha Carter he had realized he was starting to care too much about her.

To think it hadn't even been two weeks ago when he had admitted to himself that he could tell why his counterpart had been interested in her and that maybe, if things were different that he could have easily fallen for her too! It was absurd and Sara deserved better from him. How could he possibly fall in love with another woman he didn't even _trust_? No, it had to be the situation, he told himself. It was the newness of their 'relationship', impulsiveness, passion and the great sex compared to the contentedness of his marriage in which he and Sara had gotten too comfortable and settled. This entire thing with Sam was surreal and his mind had just gotten carried away with it. He had to keep his head in the game!

"… O'Neill?"

"Huh?" Jack muttered, glancing around the table and seeing all four men staring at him expectantly. Oh yeah, great start.

"You raised some concerns about the reality of the situation in your report, son?"

He stared at Hammond, a small flush creeping up his cheeks as he tried to understand what the man was referring to. He hadn't mentioned anything of his conflicting feelings… oh wait! "Um yes," he nodded. "I know we have no way of telling if this Ball character is really coming to, eh, Earth."

"That's right, Colonel," General Kennedy nodded, his dark eyes narrowed. "But we have our most sophisticated technology keeping an eye on the galaxy for us. Hopefully that will give us enough of a warning if these aliens do decide to visit our planet."

"We have all seen the recordings of the interviews, hell, I've even spoken to our three… visitors, myself," Hank chuckled uncomfortably, "and while the idea of aliens sharing the galaxy with us seems unreal, I do believe what they told us. I think we all did, otherwise we wouldn't be here right now and they would be in straightjackets. But you have to admit it seems far-fetched to assume they are coming for us, especially if they are as advanced and intelligent as we were led to believe, Jack."

Of course he knew all that but at the same time he had also heard the concern the trio had voiced during their interrogations. Now that he knew Sam a bit better he could tell that hadn't been faked and she and her friends really believed the alien responsible for them being here would come here sooner rather than later. "It's not just that."

"Does this have anything to do with your inquiry about the Navy's progress with the recovery of the Stargate, their Program and the Marine's status on the alien platform in Antarctica?"

"I got the impression Colonel O'Neill was concerned about our possible defense against these aliens," Hammond said sharply, glaring at Simmons.

Jack nodded an affirmative, on both statements. "With all due respect," he said, even though his commanding officer was the only one he felt the slightest bit of respect for in this room. "But do we even stand a chance against an alien attack?"

"Once the Navy starts bringing back technology through their Stargate we will have better, more equal, means to defend ourselves with," Kennedy said without confirming or denying if the Navy even _had_ a gate yet.

Simmons seemed to agree, his head bobbing while his own CO was talking. "From what the trio told us in their initial interviews it was clear they had managed to almost completely wipe out these aliens with the technology and knowledge they got from their off-world program. Why would we fail if they succeeded as well?"

"Well, for one they had been fighting a war for over ten years," Jack replied irritably. "Obviously this alien outsmarted them by traveling back in time and changing history as they knew it and in my opinion that makes him dangerous. Let's not forget he, like the trio, still retains the memories of those ten years and considering these Goa'uld are parasitical conquerors in nature I'd say he will use that to his advantage. Didn't they say their planet had almost been wiped out a dozen times or so within their first _year_?"

"Don't forget we have the advantage of knowing they are coming, Colonel O'Neill," Kennedy said.

Jack snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm sure that has them quaking in their boots, if they wear them," he muttered sarcastically. "What are we going to do when their ships can probably destroy us from orbit? Upload a computer virus into the mother ship and send some _shuttles_ towards their ships, plus maybe a nuke or two?"

"The United States military is still a force to be reckoned with; you shouldn't underestimate our nation's warfare capabilities, Colonel."

"With all due respect, General Kennedy, I don't think we should _overestimate_ it either. We can't even defeat the enemies our country has on our own planet that have technology similar or even inferior to our own and yet you think we could beat these aliens, if we even see them coming in time?"

Hammond held up his hand when the other three men tried to reply simultaneously and for once, they seemed to respect his higher rank and shut up. Or maybe they knew their arguments weren't good enough. "Son, what brought this on so suddenly? Did something happen, maybe with Miss Carter?"

Jack sighed as he contemplated his answer. He didn't want to cheapen some of the intimate moments he'd had with Sam by sharing it with these men; it was why he hadn't mentioned the reasoning in his report. "It was something she told me," he said reluctantly, his eyes trained on the table top. "She has a scar on her thigh and an even more remarkable one on her side. She gave me a vague explanation filled with half truths as to what had caused them-"

"You mean," Simmons interrupted him as he dug around in his briefcase until he pulled out a folder and browsed through it. "These?"

To his horror the NID operative shoved some pictures of the scars he'd mentioned over the table in his direction. Of course Jack had known they would document any injuries and scars during her medical examination when she'd first arrived here but to actually be faced with the photographic evidence in several angles was just… intrusive. It made him feel uneasy knowing the NID had these pictures in their possession and that the Colonel apparently walked around with them in his briefcase on a daily basis. Not to mention how confronting it was to see the pictures of the marred skin he'd touched intimately as he'd lain in bed with her. "Um, yeah," he muttered after clearing his throat. "She told me they were caused by energy blasts from handheld weapons their enemies carry and that our guns and bullets really weren't all that effective or impressive."

Hammond only picked up the copies Simmons had shoved his way to place them upside down, not even bothering to look at them while Hank and Kennedy were examining them.

"I guess that would answer the Doctor's questions about them," Hank mused aloud. Turning to the two NID members sitting next to him he tapped the photos. "Send these over to Dr MacKenzie with this additional information and see what he can make of this."

"I'll ask Nimiziki to take another look at them too and perhaps have him reexamine Carter to check out the healed tissue too," Kennedy added.

General Hammond cleared his throat loudly, waiting for everyone's attention to return to him before he spoke again. "This certainly means we will have to reevaluate our position on this matter if these aliens carry the kind of weapons you only see in science fiction movies on their person. It doesn't bare thinking about what their ships will be capable of then."

Jack was pleased with his CO for steering the conversation in a different direction and if he wasn't mistaken, the older man actually seemed ill at ease with the pictures and the NID too. "I agree, Sir," he replied, even though he was well aware he wouldn't be consulted on those matters. That was way above his pay grade and considering how they avoided any questions from him about the other alien technology on Earth the trio had told them about, he was pretty sure they wouldn't even let him know what their next course of action could be. Perhaps they were afraid he might spill the beans to Sam too.

"In the meantime I want you to see if you can get more information from Ms Carter about how they defended themselves against these aliens when they came to Earth, son," Hammond told him. "Just see if she will share anything with you when it's about the planet's safety. After all, she will be as much at risk as everyone else if that alien does come here and so far she hasn't shown any signs of being willing to die for nothing."

The idea of Sam dying – willingly or otherwise – suddenly sent his brain in overdrive and made his mind conjure up all kinds of gruesome memories of all the death and destruction he'd seen in his lifetime. Some of it he had even been responsible for himself. He was still torturing himself with the bloody images, sometimes featuring Tyler or Sara and others just Sam's mangled body when his CO dismissed everyone and Jack realized he had missed the conclusion of the meeting.

He got up as fast as he could, not bothering to collect his empty notebook or the pictures Simmons had handed him and quickly made his way out of the base to get to his SUV. Fifteen minutes later he was driving down the road to Sam's house and after half an hour he found himself on her porch, wondering if he was supposed to knock, ring the bell or just try the doorknob.

All of a sudden the door swung open, revealing a surprised Sam in her sweaty workout clothes. "I was just getting myself something to drink before hitting the shower when I heard your car pull up," she said by way of explanation. "Hi."

Jack's heart nearly skipped a beat at her welcoming smile and he silently chastised himself for his overactive emotions. "Hi yourself," he grinned, pushing the door open further and wrapping an arm around her slim waist.

"I didn't think you'd be back already from your trip."

His reply was a soft murmur in her ear as he leaned down and kicked the door shut behind him. "Me neither." Lowering his mouth to hers he caught her lips with his own, his tongue immediately demanding entrance and she granted it.

* * *

><p><strong>Day 91<br>Liddell Residence  
>Rainier, Washington<strong>

Sam smiled up at O'Neill when he chuckled softly at her story about Kinsey's first visit to the SGC and how he'd tried to close it down when Apophis and Klorel were heading to Earth. She had just finished telling him about what had apparently happened on base with Hammond and Samuels while SG-1 had been aboard the ships.

"That Samuels guy actually said that?"

"Yeah," she nodded, recalling how amused she'd been the first time the control room crew had filled her in on what had happened Earth side. "One of the techs handed us a copy of the surveillance footage just so we could see for ourselves."

O'Neill shook his head in mirth while his hand continued to run through her hair. Earlier, after they'd had sex he'd pulled her close but instead of being comfortable it had turned painful when her long locks had gotten trapped under his arm and she'd nearly pulled it out when she had moved. "So, it turned out you weren't such a vulnerable and unsuspecting world after all, huh?"

She shrugged, her fingers toying with his dog tags. "I wouldn't say that. If we hadn't done what we did and _when_ we did it we never would have been able to access the ship and destroy them from the inside out."

"Those megaton warhead missiles didn't even make a dent in the ships?" He questioned, his eyes searching hers as he sat up a bit.

"Thousand megaton warhead missiles," Sam corrected as she moved with him. "But no, their defense shields could easily withstand the impact… I know what you're doing and it won't help."

He looked startled and his dark eyes almost burned a hole through her with their intensity. "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes in exasperation, slightly annoyed that he had to ruin everything by bringing up work after the great weekend they had spent together. At the same time she could smack herself for feeling the way she did; she had expected him to do something like this and even before she had kissed him that very first time she had known that she couldn't allow herself to get carried away like this. She had to keep a clear head and focus on her mission, using him as a cover and a distraction. "From what I can tell your military most likely has a few very strong warheads, probably yield a couple of hundred kilotons or maybe even a few megatons."

"So?"

"So, we had enriched ours with an alien element used in most off-world technology that magnified the explosive power of our nukes to a thousand megaton and it didn't work."

Averting his eyes he shrugged, seemingly casual but she could still read him like a book. "Maybe we can get our hands on more of this element and make more powerful nukes."

"I doubt it," Sam replied.

"What the hell does that mean?" O'Neill snapped, scooting away from her and jumping out of bed to pace back and forth.

Not really surprised by his outburst she leaned back against the headrest. "It doesn't occur naturally in our solar system so you would have a hard time getting your hands on it even if your Navy gets their Program up and running. Even then it took us about a year to come up with that nuke."

"You could help," he said suddenly, his eyes finding hers again. "Tell them where to look and to make these powerful warheads."

"It doesn't work like that."

He huffed, stalking off towards the bathroom. "You just don't _want _to help," he said, his hand on the doorknob. "Don't forget you'll be here on the same planet if that alien attacks."

"Oh come on," Sam groaned, as she slid from underneath the covers and got up. "That's not fair and you know it."

"Not fair?" He countered, swinging the door open again. "I thought we had agreed to try and be honest with each other or this wouldn't work between us."

Making her way back to the bed she waited until he followed her in a more sedate pace and sat down next to her. "I understand your frustration, believe me! It must be killing you knowing Ba'al will come and not being able to protect your son-"

"For God's sake, Sam ju-"

"Let me finish," she demanded, her hand on his arm to keep him from getting up. "I _am_ being honest with you. Do you have any idea how many warheads it would take to destroy a ship like that? How much of that alien element you'll need? And that's just one ship, out of a fleet of a couple of dozen probably and who knows what kind of technology Ba'al has used to upgrade his ships now. Even if I _could_ help, there's no way this plan could be fulfilled, not even if all the governments worked together."

O'Neill stared at her, appearing to gauge the truthfulness in her explanation and after what seemed like an eternity he finally nodded. "Okay."

"Just like that?" Sam questioned, wondering if this was some new kind of tactic. With her knowledge she could make much more powerful bombs but like she'd promised to herself she would never reveal that to anyone in this timeline because of the possible ramifications. Not just on Earth, by giving the United States government such power but realistically speaking even if they somehow managed to get enough naquadah or naquadria and built the bombs of which the blueprints were all stored in her head, then she still didn't know if it would be enough to stop Ba'al because they had no idea what size his fleet was now. There was also a risk of not only debris landing on Earth with so many destroyed ships but the power of all those nuclear weapons and the explosions from just a dozen ships too close to Earth could be catastrophic.

"I trust you," he said.

She doubted he really did and couldn't afford to just trust _him_ on his word. "But…?"

"Well, like I said, you are also on this planet and I don't think you want to die or be enslaved by this alien if he comes."

"True, which is why I need access to the Stargate, otherwise I can't help you."

"Sam," he sighed, his fingers entwining with hers and squeezing her hand softly. "What about other options? You know they'll never let you near the thing. Hell, I don't even know if they managed to salvage it from the ocean yet. What about that time you blew up half of that Apophis guy's fleet?"

She groaned, wondering who of the guys had told him that. It had to be Cam, she reasoned, simply because Daniel had been there and knew pretty much of how she had done it and Cam had the annoying habit of reciting past accomplishments he'd read in all of their mission reports. "That won't work either."

"Why not?"

"I thought you trusted me?" She couldn't help but say, wincing when she saw the dark expression on his face. Releasing his fingers she got up and shrugged on a robe. "Fine. I blew up a sun, okay? I'm pretty sure we still need ours and our planet, so that option is out."

O'Neill simply sat there, gaping at her. "A sun?"

She shrugged self-consciously, tugging the robe tighter around her. "It was a team effort."

"I'll bet," he muttered, still looking bewildered.

"We used a Stargate for it, so even if it was somehow feasible they would actually need to let me near the gate."

He seemed deep in thought so she just rolled her eyes and went into the bathroom to clean up. By the time she came out he was still sitting in the exact same position, only his shoulders had sagged a bit more.

"I'm sorry," he said, a genuine expression on his face. "I didn't mean to ruin everything. It just hit home all of a sudden after you told me about your scars and I realized there were aliens with laser guns and they're probably on their way here. It's not an excuse, I know, I shouldn't have tried to interrogate you."

"It's okay," Sam relented after a beat, kneeling at his feet to look at his downcast eyes. Reaching up, she caressed his cheek and waited until he looked at her. "It's scary, I get that. But you were the one saying we had to be honest with each other and if you don't trust or believe me then why are we even trying? Do you see a future here, for us? Can you imagine what our relationship will look like in a few months? Have you even thought about the consequences of getting involved and how it can affect your career and personal life?"

"I honestly don't know," he murmured, his brows knitted together in a frown.

Taking a deep breath she used her last trump. "What about your son?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he's a part of your life and if we're in a relationship…" She let her voice trail off, feeling awful for even contemplating using the innocent young man like this but she didn't really have a choice. "If you're serious about us don't you think I should meet him someday?"

O'Neill turned away from her, appearing pensive as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know, Sam. I haven't thought it that far through. It's not something you just spring on a kid, you know? Like you said, it would affect my life and thereby his so it would take time before I'd even think about telling him about you."

"I understand."

"Oh Christ," he muttered when his phone rang. "I've got to go. We'll talk more later tonight?"

Sam nodded, watching as he grabbed a clean set of clothes from the weekend bag he'd brought with him. "Sure, we'll talk later."

* * *

><p>Jack finished getting dressed and turned back to her. "I really am sorry," he said, hoping she could read the honesty in his eyes. His phone buzzed again and he gave her a quick kiss. "See you tonight."<p>

"Bye!" Sam nodded and watching him go, not making any attempts to follow him to the door but instead turned back to the bathroom.

Pushing the image of her taking a long shower or a hot bath from his mind, he made a dash for the front door and pushed the button to answer the call from the unknown number.

"O'Neill," he barked once he was outside.

There was only silence on the other end as he made his way over to the car. _"Wait."_

"Wait, what?" He questioned, scowling with his hands on the car's door handle. "Who is this?"

"_Jack, it's me. Don't get in the car. We need to talk."_

He frowned, pulling the phone from his ear to look at it in wonder. "Harry? What the hell do you want?"

"_Not over the phone, meet me in person. There are instructions in the glove compartment."_

With that Harry Maybourne hung up the phone and Jack was left confused. What was that all about? Hadn't Simmons and Kennedy said the rat bastard was in New York, keeping an eye on Jackson? Obviously he couldn't be in New York and leave him instructions in his car or observe him almost stepping into said car at the same time!

Out of habit he glanced down the street, trying to get a look of the NID operative but there was nothing suspicious at all going around. Shrugging to himself Jack got into the car before Sam might see him and wonder what he was doing. After settling into his seat he leaned over to the glove compartment and pulled out the note. It looked like Harry even knew his schedule because the date wasn't set for another two days, making him even more curious. What was with the cloak and dagger routine and why would Maybourne want to talk to him? They hardly knew each other, didn't get along all that well and had only worked together a handful of times in the past…


	31. Day Ninety Three of a New Life

**Day 93  
>J.S. Salvaging Inc<br>Trenton, New Jersey**

It had been a few weeks since Daniel had been hired by Sam's company and even though there wasn't any work for him to be done until there was actual salvaged cargo to catalog, he still popped by at least once a week to check on the overall progress. His office was almost fully decorated and he'd made sure to order all the necessary equipment so he would be able to start with his actual job the moment he got called. Every now and then he would bring by some extra research books just to keep up appearances.

Up until today though it had never been this busy at the office and he'd dropped by here on different times at various days. Heck, his first tour here by Melinda had been on a Sunday. Now the corridors were filled with people, most just getting back from their coffee break after the long meeting they'd had first thing this morning. Melinda had been kind enough to ensure he had his own coffeemaker at his office, so he wouldn't have to bother walking all the way to the break room with his cane. Daniel was pretty sure "Therra" had told her to give him one because it was almost the exact same machine he'd had at the SGC.

But he wasn't here for the good coffee; he could make that at his impersonal apartment too. No, he'd been called earlier today for an update; they had found the shipwreck! Divers were probably already poking and prodding the wreck right now as he was cradling his cup of coffee. He had made sure to pass on instructions to Melinda on how they should handle the cargo and could only hope none of the divers – or worse, the company's too curious archeologists – would ignore them. If all went well and everything was retrieved according to protocol then it wouldn't be long until he could finally see Sam again!

After he'd gotten the news he'd immediately texted Sam, knowing that Melinda would probably go through whatever communications procedure Sam had set up with her and that sending a message to her prepaid phone with his own would be faster. Sam hadn't told him to do so but she also hadn't prohibited it and since she'd said the phones were untraceable he didn't really see the harm. For a moment Daniel had even considered calling her, just so he could hear her voice and ask her how she was doing but he'd decided against it. The only time he was supposed to call her was when he had correctly identified the cargo and he would do as she'd said. After all, he had no idea if she would be able to answer the phone or speak freely and it would be a shame if everything went to hell because he'd been unable to keep his enthusiasm to himself.

Still, even just sending the text and knowing what was happening right now under the ocean's surface he couldn't help but feel happy and grin like a fool. Hopefully it wouldn't be long now until he and Sam could set things in motion and finally go back home!

* * *

><p><strong>0735 hours<br>Liddell Residence  
>Rainier, Washington<strong>

Sam looked up from the kitchen island as O'Neill emerged from the corridor. He was wearing one of the sweatpants he kept in the weekend bag in her bedroom and still seemed a bit sleepy. His hair was sticking out and the five o'clock shadow that had rasped her sensitive skin last night was now more visible stubble. Clearly he'd just rolled out of bed after finding her spot empty and pulled on some pants to look for her instead of taking a shower first.

He padded over to the kitchen on his bare feet and came up behind her. "Good morning," he murmured in her hair, nuzzling it.

Caught up in the familiarity of the situation she leaned back against his chest, turning her head slightly to kiss his cheek. "Good morning."

"You were gone when I woke up," he muttered, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"It was getting late," she replied. Making a vague hand gesture encompassing the kitchen she waited until he looked around. "I made breakfast."

"Eggs?"

Sam covered one of his hands on her abdomen with her own, gently stroking it while she pointed at the set island with her free hand. "Eggs and bacon, Frootees, coffee and juice for you."

"Wow," O'Neill said, surprise evident in his voice. "And you're having… toast?"

"I'm not very hungry," she shrugged.

He pressed a kiss on her crown and released his hold on her, making his way around the kitchen island. "Yet you went through all this trouble. I thought you didn't do much cooking?" When she just smiled, he frowned. "You seem to be in a very good mood this morning."

"I am," Sam affirmed, her mind thinking of Daniel's text message. It was a good thing she kept the prepaid phone in a secure spot and had checked it before O'Neill had even woken up. She should have known Daniel wouldn't be able to resist letting her know even though she had made it clear that while the phones were untraceable there was still a risk of discovery and therefore should only be used under certain circumstances, like him identifying the salvaged cargo or if his life or freedom was in danger. But at least he hadn't called, because O'Neill might have overheard or the surveillance in the house could have picked up the conversation and then the NID would have known about her second cell phone. It would be soul crushing if they got caught _now_ when their goal was so close!

"So, you're not mad anymore?"

She saw him chancing a hopeful look at her before he focused on his breakfast and slid down on her own barstool. "Honestly?" He winced and it made her feel bad about her choice of words. They hadn't really resolved the argument from two days ago because his phone had rung and he'd gone to base. In the evening he'd called to let her know he was being held up and would be staying there, so he'd only shown up last night and they'd watched a movie together before going to bed. They hadn't done much talking.

"I guess," he said softly. Taking a bite of his omelet he looked at her, his brown eyes warm. "We did agree on being honest with each other. Besides, after my little outburst last time I deserve whatever you're going to say."

Taking a moment, Sam tried to organize her thoughts. He seemed genuinely sorry about yelling at her and claiming she didn't want to help defend the planet. Of course, there had been some truth in his accusations; she had her own plan to get back home safely, preferably before Ba'al made an appearance in orbit. In that sense, helping his government was out of the question. Yet, if the megalomaniac _did_ show up before she had executed her mission then she would do whatever she could to help them. That however would most likely still work in her favor because once the major cities were blown off the face of the Earth and Ba'al was threatening to kill everyone or destroy the planet, the President would change his mind and would give Cam, Daniel and herself access to whatever they wanted, including the Stargate. Assuming they had a working gate.

"I won't deny I'm still a bit upset about what you said," she started, her fingers nervously running up and down the side of her coffee cup. "I _was_ being honest in that the only solution I can think of to defend the planet against Ba'al's fleet lies in the Stargate." She could tell he was itching to reply but seemed to hold back, his fist clenching near his plate. "Not necessarily to restore the timeline, if that's what you're worried about. Trust me, it would take a hell of a lot more than just access to the gate to undo whatever it is Ba'al did."

O'Neill's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he cradled his coffee cup before taking a sip. "Is that so?"

"I don't know what your 'experts' are saying about how we ended up here and how we could possibly fix it, but I can assure you it's not as simple as just dialing the gate."

"Don't stop on my account."

Sam huffed, rolling her eyes at him. It wouldn't hurt to tell him some more, would it? It might just lull him and his superiors into a fall sense of security. "I would need to run tests, simulations _and_ get access to the Stargate from the Arctic."

"Why?"

"Remember what I told you about the Stargate and how it works?"

He had just finished his omelet and poured milk on his Frootees when she looked at him inquiringly. "… maybe," he replied with an impish look, his spoon freezing midair.

"A Stargate," Sam started, grabbing his empty plate to illustrate the gate, "will form an event horizon once it's activated, a blue puddle if you will."

"Like Jello?"

"Sure," she nodded, wondering if he was being purposely obtuse. Probably. That way he and his superiors could get her simplified explanation again in case they hadn't been paying attention to the one she'd given during her interrogation. Or perhaps they couldn't make heads or tails of it and were hoping for a second shot. Reaching for her toast she took a few bites, trying to recall what her original explanation had been. It had certainly been more complex than she'd ever tell her Jack. Not because he wouldn't understand – she was still fairly sure he'd known the concept of a wormhole and hadn't needed the fruit explanation – but because he'd get bored. At the time of her interrogation she'd aimed her explanation at her peers, assuming the government would enlist someone qualified to go over her statement, like McKay, Bill Lee or maybe Zelenka.

Finishing her toast she turned back to the plate. "An event horizon dematerializes an object, turning it into matter and transmitting it through subspace via an artificial wormhole to another Stargate," she indicated her own cleared plate. "The receiving gate translates the energy signature and reconverts it back into its original form of matter. The object is basically compressed down to the molecules when inserted into the wormhole and reconstituted on the other side where it emerges after about oh point three seconds."

"Go on," O'Neill muttered as he continued to eat his Frootees.

"To do this the Stargate has massive amounts of memory like a computer buffer to temporarily store energy signatures on a subatomic level within the gate's memory crystals before reintegrating the matter into its pre-organized form."

He nodded slowly, a pensive look on his face. "Otherwise you're not put together again the way you went in."

"Exactly. The memory buffer is then reset with each new gate activation; otherwise it would spit out clones of those that traveled through the same gate before you did."

"Okay…"

"Stargates use a DHD or a dialing device like the dialing computer your Navy is going to have to create to input the address of the second gate," Sam tapped her plate again. "Typically a DHD holds the last fifty addresses that were dialed and those can be retrieved, although they are often in random order."

Sighing, O'Neill pushed his now empty bowl aside and turned back to his coffee. "Yeah, okay, but what does this have to do with you fixing – or rather, being unable to fix – the timeline without all your little tests?"

"We know there wasn't a DHD aboard _Achilles_ so the only way Ba'al could have dialed out after he arrived and damaged the ship is to use a small portable, probably handheld dialing device."

"Let me guess, he took it with him and now you don't have the DHD's buffer to examine," he concluded.

Sam nodded an affirmative and shrugged. "Of course that is assuming he went back to his secret base right away and didn't detour to another planet with heavy gate traffic."

O'Neill sipped the last of his coffee and pushed the dirty dishes aside. "Well, you don't really need _heavy_ traffic if it's been seventy years ago since he went there."

"True," she conceded with a small smile. She refrained from telling him that during their study of the Asgard Core they had discovered that the Stargate itself also had a similar long term memory buffer. Unlike the transport buffers which were for temporary storage only, like when Teal'c had been trapped inside the gate and they'd needed a DHD to get him out – properly reconstituted and everything – before dialing another planet, the gate's memory crystal had an address identification buffer that stored the last fifty addresses used. Basically the DHD stored the last fifty dialed out and the Stargate stored the last incoming wormholes.

Last she'd heard they had been working on a caller ID program for the dialing computer at Area 51 in the hopes it would be able to identify which planet was trying to reach Earth without having to rely on radio communications. It would also allow them to dial back in case no one replied and no IDC was received, and have it checked out by a MALP. It would definitely come in handy if Earth was ever under attack again to pinpoint the origin of said attack, like when Anubis had used his Ancient weapon to try and overheat their Stargate about six years ago.

In her situation however, it meant there was a good chance she'd be able to retrieve the address from the planet Ba'al had used to dial Earth if she could hook up her laptop to the gate. After all, Ba'al had presumably dialed in prior to the arrival of Cam, Daniel and herself into this timeline. If their own incoming wormhole had even registered, considering the timeline shift while they were in transit. Who knew, maybe Ba'al's address was the only one stored in the gate's memory crystal.

There was even a chance she would be able to access the data from the last _outgoing_ wormhole from the crystals, without having the DHD because he had either used a portable dialing device or manually dialed the gate – thereby bypassing the need for a DHD. Of course, if she would share that tidbit of information the Navy would make sure to dial – randomly if necessary – another planet as soon as they were able to just to take that opportunity from them. It was also why she'd neglected to tell her interrogators that the gate could be manually dialed as long as it had enough power…

"But you would be able to somehow figure it out eventually if they allowed you to access the Stargate?"

O'Neill's question startled her from her thoughts and Sam mentally shook herself for letting her thoughts wander like that under his watchful eyes. "I don't know. Maybe. Not on my own at least and certainly not in the blink of an eye. Like I said, it would take research, many simulations and a few brilliant minds to come up with a solution like that."

"Yet you would still take the opportunity if it presented itself, wouldn't you?"

She could tell he'd carefully phrased his words to avoid making it sound like an accusation of her being up to something. He couldn't know she was still planning on going home and had to believe she was trying to settle in here. "Probably, but like you said it's highly unlikely the government would grant me such access. They made it perfectly clear they don't want to alter the timeline."

He looked at her over the rim of his juice glass, his eyes dark and narrowed in suspicion. "And you're okay with that?"

"I'm trying," she replied with a shy smile. By the look on his face she could tell he'd heard her unspoken answer. _I'm trying here, with you._

After sipping his drink, O'Neill cleared his throat and smiled curiously at her. "Then what would your plan be to defend the planet? You already said that it would be impossible to get our hands on enough of that alien element or the required number of warheads. So what would you use the Stargate for? A full scale evacuation?"

Sam snorted, shaking her head; she'd already shared the story about how Earth's best and brightest had been sent to the Alpha Site when Apophis and Klorel's ships had come to Earth with him in bed two days ago. "That would never work, especially not last minute; a suitable planet would have to be scouted first before any decisions about a possible refuge can be made."

"What about the planets you used in your timeline?"

"There's no telling what happened to them or to some of our friends and allies. For all we know Ba'al or some other Goa'uld has taken over those planets and the same goes for the ones that mine that element I told you about. A lot can happen in seventy years and unfortunately Ba'al knew a lot about the SGC and how and where we operated."

He frowned, clearly dismayed at the news and fiddled with the morning newspaper next to him. "Then what?"

"Well, we told you everything you needed," Sam replied, referring to her and the guys' interrogations. "Landry told us the Navy was looking for the Stargate on the ocean floor and would set up their own Program and another team would look for the second gate in Antarctica. He didn't mention anything about who was going to dig for the Ancient platform in Antarctica but I thought I'd made it pretty clear that was an important defense that this planet might need."

She was pretty sure Daniel and Cam would have said the same because they too wouldn't want to leave the planet without a defense, even if it meant being stranded here. She just hadn't told them yet about how to operate it and the limited number of people who would be capable of doing so. No doubt the guys had done the same. This she knew for a fact and not just because she trusted them but if anyone had told the government about the ATA gene then Jack O'Neill wouldn't be babysitting her but he'd be in Antarctica or maybe in a lab while the military would try to get to the bottom of his DNA sequence until his help was needed. There was a chance they'd recruit one of the others with the gene but Sam wasn't sure if Daniel and Cam knew the names of the other carriers. Of course _she_ knew them because most of them had been stationed at Atlantis, under her command.

"That's it? Then why would we need to use the damn Stargate?"

"Because it needs a power source."

"Ah," O'Neill muttered as he stared off into the distance. "Well," he looked at her, a small smirk on his face, "I'm glad we got that settled then."

Sam smiled softly, slowly sipping the remaining coffee. Not even dragging all this up was putting a damper on her mood. She would have to thank Daniel for sending her that text message even if she hadn't approved it initially, she thought to herself. Turning her attention back to O'Neill, she gnawed her lip as she watched him thumb the newspaper and stop at the crossword puzzle. "I wasn't done yet…"

"Oh?"

"I'm not mad anymore but I'll admit that it upset me," she brought the topic back to their original conversation.

His gaze found hers and to her surprise there was an understanding look in his eyes. "I know. I told you I was sorry and I meant it. It was all just becoming so real and I… I-I didn't handle it well," he admitted. "You deserved better after being so honest and open about something you'd been keeping to yourself for so long and I just blew it. It's frustrating to be on the sidelines and not being able to _do_ anything."

"I know and I understand. Trust me, this isn't the first time I'm confronted with this."

O'Neill dragged a hand through his hair, making it stick up in all directions and sighed loudly. "I should have been more open with you myself." He must have seen her confusion because he made a vague hand gesture before replying. "About Tyler and our… relationship."

"I get it," Sam said softly. It was taking a lot of effort to keep calm while she knew about his marriage and his mission. The only good thing about that knowledge was that it made her feel a bit better about using him too. "This is new to both of us. You haven't been divorced that long and it must have been hard on your son for his parents to separate."

"Yeah," he winced visibly and averted his eyes.

"You can't just throw a new relationship into his face. These things take time, but that doesn't mean we – you and I – should ignore it," she added, feeling slightly guilty about using his son like this. At least she knew she would never actually have to face the young man, which made it a bit easier.

Standing up, O'Neill walked around the island and pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry. Next time I do or say something stupid you just tell me, okay?"

Sam nodded, lightly kissing him on the lips before turning to the leftovers of their breakfast. "You go do your crossword and I'll do the dishes."

"Are you sure?" He asked, his eyes darting between the paper and the sink.

"Yeah sure you betcha," she smirked, bumping her hip with his. "Besides, I'll probably end up helping you anyway."

He huffed mockingly and after securing a pencil he turned back to his puzzle.

* * *

><p><strong>1455 hours<br>Carter Lake  
>Pierce County, Washington<strong>

Jack had already walked the perimeter of the fishing area, his gear in one hand and his fishing permit – courtesy of the base – deep in his jacket pocket as he kept an eye out for Colonel Harry Maybourne. He still didn't understand why there was such a need for secrecy but he'd decided to play along for now. After all, Maybourne had gone through so much trouble to ensure a secure meeting location with a good cover that his curiosity had been piqued.

Apparently it wasn't a secret he enjoyed fishing, not even with his new CO although that could have something to do with them working with the NID these days as those guys from Intelligence would probably know exactly how many fish there were in his pond in Minnesota. Apparently Maybourne had requested a permit in his name while he'd been arranging this secret meeting of theirs. Yesterday, when he'd been held up at base Hammond had handed him the permit and wished him an enjoyable afternoon of fishing. Jack didn't think it would be much fun, not even if he was alone because his guilt over using Sam had grown stronger the more time he spent with her.

It wasn't until he came closer to the water edge that he saw the NID operative, sitting there in his fishing outfit in a small boat as if he didn't have a care in the world. Jack was going to kill him if this had all been set up just because Harry's usual fishing pals weren't available in this neck of the woods.

"Jack!" Maybourne greeted with a smirk, beckoning him over. "Come, join me."

"Harry," he replied cautiously, getting into the boat. "So, what's this all about?"

"Patience."

Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation when Maybourne started the outboard motor and seemed to steer them towards the middle of the lake. "Oh for crying out loud…"

After a few minutes the NID operative stopped the boat and threw out his anchor and got settled with his fishing gear. "Come on, Jack. Relax. People are supposed to think we're two buddies doing some fishing."

"Just tell me why I'm here," he grunted. Nevertheless, he followed Harry's example and patiently waited for the big reveal.

"Well, I thought it was appropriate. Carter Lake," he smirked at his own joke.

"Harry…"

Maybourne rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine, fine. There is something you should know, Jack."

"Which is?"

His eyes darted over the water, as if he was verifying they were alone and no one was eavesdropping. "It's about the NID."

"I figured as much," Jack replied dryly, getting bored. "Look, I like fishing as much as the next guy, but if you're not going to get to the point I'd rather be in this boat on my own. Got it?"

"Relax Jack," Maybourne grinned. "Trust me, you're gonna want to hear this."

"Just spit it out already, Harry."

The man took a deep breath and shifted in his seat, like he was readying himself to give someone bad news. "It concerns you. And your wife and girlfriend."

Jack didn't bother correcting him, knowing he was just doing it to get to him but his patience was starting to wear thin. "What does?"

"The NID felt it necessary to have a… backup plan, if you will. Not many people know about this and I accidentally stumbled across it when I was doing some, eh, investigating of my own. I thought you had to know. This situation with Carter has us all on edge and no one wants her or her merry friends to do anything about the timeline but some things just go too far," Maybourne stated.

"Gee and here I thought an absence of moral conscience was a prerequisite for your occupation," he replied dryly. "All right," Jack added when he was about to protest, "I'm just surprised, Harry. I didn't think there was an honorable thing left about you after you switched sides and joined the NID."

"You should be thanking me," he retorted. "If I hadn't joined the NID or wasn't snooping around to cover my own ass then I wouldn't have discovered what I did."

"… which is?"

Maybourne scowled at him, clearly thinking he was ungrateful. "Look, I didn't have to come here to tell you. Hell, maybe I should just leave now and leave you to your fishing."

"Oh stop being such a drama queen, Harry," Jack groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Besides, I doubt you're here out of the goodness of your heart. Let me guess; you're pissed that Simmons got your gig and you were sent to Kansas and New York. Now you found something incriminating about Simmons and decided to use it to your advantage."

"Maybe," he replied with a smug smirk. "Two birds with one stone. Nothing wrong with that, my friend."

"Yeah yeah, you'll get your revenge on Simmons and I… what's in it for me?" Jack questioned.

Suddenly the smirk left Maybourne's face and he looked serious as he leaned forward. "You might just be in time to save your marriage."

"What the hell are you talking about, Harry?"

He sighed again and leaned back in his seat, staring out across the water. "Your assignment was devised from the get-go."

Jack nodded an affirmative, recalling how they – including the man in front of him – had stunned him with it, just days before they'd decided to give Samantha Carter a new identity. "Yeah, so?"

"Every step had been planned," Maybourne said. "We all knew there was a chance it wouldn't go as we'd hoped but, well, let's just say we were confident you had enough reasons to succeed. Your family has always been your weak point and we knew that with their lives on the line you would be determined enough to get the job done. You're even ahead of schedule–"

"What did you do, Harry?" Jack asked in a deceptively calm voice while he was seething on the inside. Was he threatening Sara and Tyler?

"Me, nothing. I only found out about this last weekend and thought it was best to come here and tell you in person after I'd done my report to Kennedy."

"So you could gloat about it?"

Maybourne shook his head and then his intense gaze found his. "Not about this, Jack."

"Just tell me already, Harry. Or I swear I'll–"

"Someone came up with a backup plan to keep Carter here, on our side. I don't know who, but I do know Kennedy and Simmons are both in on it. I don't know if you were part of the plan from the beginning – I'm not even sure when this plan was hatched to be honest – or if you were just another pawn. They crossed the line, Jack," Maybourne said in a rare, serious tone. "They switched out Carter's pills."

"What pills?" He replied, confused. But even as he spoke the words it dawned on him. "Christ! They did… what?"

He shook his head, appearing to be genuinely upset. "I don't know when they made the switch or if Nimiziki even gave her effective birth control pills to begin with but they figured if she got pregnant she would have more reason to stay here. She wouldn't risk the life of her own child just to get her precious timeline back…"

Jack's head was spinning as he tried to process the information. Harry didn't know if she'd ever _been_ on the pill? How long had he and Sam been having sex? Oh god, could she be pregnant? How the hell would he explain that? Not just to her, because she would probably deduce why her birth control had failed and would assume he was in on it. But what about his wife? Sara would never forgive him if he not only cheated but got another woman pregnant. Christ, he was old enough to be a grandfather already!

This wasn't something he could keep from Sara, not even if he could make it so she would never find out on her own. It was one thing to have an affair with Sam because life as he knew it was at stake since she had the knowledge to change the timeline and maybe this way he could stop her. But getting her pregnant had never been part of the plan. No way! He would have to confess to Sara that he'd been cheating on her for weeks now and the worst thing was that he wouldn't be able to explain his reasoning because it was classified. Not that he thought she would forgive him if she knew. No, she had put up with enough crap from him and his career over the years.

This would be too much and she would want to divorce. He couldn't blame her but God… this had never been his intention! And Tyler's life would be ruined too. Not only would his parents get a divorce but it would like his father had found some younger woman and had knocked her up. Oh yeah, that would go over well! Christ, what a mess!

"Jack? Jack?"

Shaking himself, he looked up into the concerned face of Harry Maybourne. That rat bastard! What, did he expect a thank you? "What the hell do you want, Harry?"

"I figured you might want to think this through," he gestured around him and only now did Jack realize they were back on solid ground. "Besides, I have to get back to New York. Good luck, Jack."

He watched the NID operative go and awkwardly got up out of the boat, his legs suddenly feeling like jello. Oh God, Sam. What about her? She hadn't asked for any of this and in her mind they were trying to have a real relationship… now she could be pregnant! How the hell had this happened?


	32. Day Ninety Six of a New Life

**Day 96  
>McChord Air Force Base<br>Lakewood, Washington**

In one of the safe recreational areas in the woods Jack had found a secluded spot where he'd retreated to, trying to clear his head and make sense of the situation he'd found himself in. He wasn't exactly sure when he'd gotten here, sometime during the late afternoon and he'd enjoyed the sunset and was now gazing up as twilight colored the sky. That probably meant it was getting late and that he should leave but he was anxious to go since Sam had made it clear she was expecting him at her house.

Since Harry had dropped his little bombshell Jack hadn't left the base. At first because he'd been too shocked and probably wasn't in any state to drive, which had been an excellent excuse since Carter Lake was less than two miles from his quarters and easily done on foot – despite his shaky legs. Before leaving Sam's place that afternoon he'd told her he probably wouldn't make it back that evening, not knowing what Maybourne wanted to tell him and having some actual work waiting for him on base. The work had been postponed to the next day and he'd even managed to give a training course on the range; those had probably been the only few hours that day he'd been able to think of something other than the possibility of having impregnated Sam.

His first instinct at Harry's revelation had been to demand answers from the NID, preferably by beating the crap out of Kennedy and Simmons but then he realized the only reason Maybourne had gone through so many precautions to tell him was because he wasn't supposed to know. By confronting the other NID members Jack would tip his hand and who knew what they'd do then. Of course there was a chance they'd remove him from his assignment and he'd be free to go back home but what would happen then? He wasn't sure he could face Sara and Tyler like this, especially not without knowing if Sam _was_ pregnant. At the same time he didn't really want to know and much preferred denial.

Besides, if he would reveal to the NID he was aware of their dirty little scheme then what would they do to Sam? Ship her off to another city and have someone else take over his assignment? Jack didn't think that was fair on her either and he cared too much about her to just hand her over to some asshole to use and hurt her by take advantage of her. Or worse, let the NID lock her up again indefinitely and forcing her to do their bidding. Not to mention that if she _was_ already pregnant with his baby then he would want to know and somehow be there for his kid, despite the situation.

So, while he'd been thinking all that through he'd only texted her to say he was held up on base and would come by in a few days, hoping that he would know what to do by then. He'd also ignored one of Tyler's phone calls, letting it go to voicemail rather than talk to the kid while his mind was elsewhere. Jack knew Tyler had gone back to campus now that the summer vacation was over and he already felt bad enough about hardly spending any time with his son.

Sara had been as undemanding as usual and it had been weeks since they'd talked on the phone. Their son had told him in his message to give her a call and let her know when he'd be coming home, but since Jack didn't know when that would be or just how to talk to his wife while he'd been having sex with another woman for weeks now he hadn't picked up the phone to call her yet.

A woman that might very well be pregnant already considering he had slept with Sam for the first time almost four weeks ago. They hadn't used a condom and he hadn't even thought about any kind of protection since it had been so unexpected at the time. Luckily – or so he'd thought up until a few days ago – she was on birth control and taking her pills every day like the sensible and smart woman she was. They were both clean so he hadn't seen the need to use condoms since that first time either, which in retrospect was probably stupid. But Sam hadn't suggested using them and it had been decades since he'd used them last, so he hadn't really seen a reason to start with her if she was protected and neither of them had any sexually transmitted diseases.

Yesterday Jack had gone online to research oral contraception, conception and pregnancy tests in the hope he would stumble across something that would reassure him, but he'd soon realized it was in vain. For one he wasn't a woman and he wasn't aware of Sam's menstrual cycle, only that she was taking the pill and had been doing so for a while now. Probably since she'd first arrived here, which was most likely the moment the NID had concocted this scheme and had handed her fake pills. But she hadn't complained about still getting her period or that the pill she was taking was ineffective so Jack had no idea what the NID had given her exactly. Even when he'd tried thinking back to that first 'morning after' when he'd been ready to fall to his knees and thank God when he found her birth control strip, noticed the missing pill for that day and the ones before he hadn't been able to recall anything about the type of pill or its name. Just that she was taking it and that he wouldn't have to worry about a possible pregnancy…

Sam also hadn't told him she was late or anything but according to the stuff he'd read online that didn't necessarily mean she _wasn't_ pregnant. Something about spotting or whatever. He had also learned that a pregnancy test could give a false result if tested too early, so he wasn't sure about what to do now. It wasn't like he could tell Sam what Harry had told him, give her one of those sticks and just hope she wasn't pregnant. If she found out about the NID's little plan then she would think Jack himself was in on it and would never trust him again. That meant their relationship was effectively over and that the NID might try a more aggressive approach with her, or just ship her off elsewhere – all of which left him in the dark about her whereabouts and health.

It had been extremely difficult for him to sit through the weekly meeting with Hammond, Hank and the two NID members afterwards and not say anything about it. Jack couldn't even tell what they'd been talking about yesterday to save his life so distracted he had been with the revelation. He knew his commanding officer had noticed and he'd even made a remark about Jack's inattentiveness once the others had left, but Hammond had accepted his excuse about being preoccupied with Sam and how to defend Earth against a possible alien threat. He wasn't sure if the man believed him or maybe just sympathized with him over the assignment he'd been given, considering how the old Texan had already expressed his misgivings about the whole situation with Sam months ago.

Or maybe his CO, like the others, just didn't care Jack wasn't paying any attention after he had managed to yet again get more information out of Sam about weapons and technology. To him it hadn't mattered because the whole thing with the gate was way above his head and he knew the government would never grant her access anyway. Even if the Navy managed to get it working he wouldn't be involved with the Program or other planets anyway. But the NID had been more than pleased with the new intel. Hank had even congratulated him on a job well done, albeit grudgingly. It had seemed like they were all expecting him to deliver more news soon.

Normally Jack didn't really give a crap about what the NID or Hank wanted, but after Maybourne's story they could all go to hell for all he cared. The fact that Harry had gone through all the trouble of telling him this was enough proof for him to believe it. Hell, he didn't know why he hadn't expected the NID to come up with this himself seeing how they hadn't even batted an eye at ordering him to seduce Sam and start a sexual relationship with her for the good of his country – or timeline, whatever. But this had gone too far. It was one thing for him, as a mature man understanding what was asked of him, to get involved with a woman like Sam, who was also smart enough to decide for herself if she wanted to pursue a relationship with him. It was quite another thing altogether to make an innocent baby a pawn in this situation. To give Sam ineffective birth control with the sole purpose of forcing a pregnancy on her and entrapping him into fathering a baby with a woman he wasn't even in a real relationship with.

Christ, a baby! Jack ran a hand through his hair in frustration and looked back up at the sky. He would turn fifty-six in a few weeks and Sam, his mistress for lack of a better word could be pregnant with his child. How would he explain that to his family? Sara would probably never speak to him again after handing him divorce papers and Tyler would most likely side with her, not that Jack could blame him. After all, he'd always been telling his son how loyalty and trust were important in life, but especially in relationships. Tyler was going to college already and now he could get a half-sibling because Jack had been cheating on Sara? Christ, what a mess! The worst part was that Jack would never be able to explain it to anyone; not to Sara, Tyler or Sam.

* * *

><p><strong>2225 hours<br>Liddell Residence  
>Rainier, Washington<strong>

Sam was cleaning the dishes in the kitchen while O'Neill was still in the living room, watching some game show on TV. He had been acting strangely since he'd gotten here a few hours ago but claimed nothing was up. Actually, he'd been acting weird for days. After he'd left her house four days ago she hadn't heard from him except for a text message saying he'd be gone for a few days. For a moment she had worried that it was because of what she'd told him about the Stargate, but there was no way any of that had been helpful to the NID. Not on such short term anyway and especially not without a dialing computer or DHD.

To her horror she had even dreamed that he was spending the days with his wife and son last night and she was ashamed to admit she had felt jealous and angry at the idea, even though she had no claim on him and had known from the beginning that he was still married. Hell, she didn't even want _him_ she just wanted her Jack and in the meantime settled for O'Neill. Or so she tried to convince herself. This morning she had caved and texted him asking when he was going to come over today, not wanting to spend the weekend alone. But there was something off about him and she couldn't put her finger on it.

Instead of getting frustrated or interrogating him about it Sam had given him some leftovers when he'd arrived and they'd snuggled up on the couch to watch a movie. With him here the days and nights didn't seem as long as when he wasn't around. She didn't like it but she was rational enough to acknowledge it to herself. Hopefully it would change soon now that the shipwreck had been found; she had contacted Melinda and told her to send an extra ship out that could bring the first of the salvaged cargo back to the company while the original ship continued its job. That way Daniel could get his hands on it sooner. Hopefully luck was on their side and he would call her any day now to tell her he'd found it. Then she could go meet him and they could get the hell out of Dodge. There was still the issue of getting O'Neill to cooperate but she would cross that bridge when she came to it…

"Hey Sam," O'Neill called out, almost hanging over the back of the sofa to catch her eye. "How many elements are in the periodic table?"

"One hundred and forty-six," she replied absentmindedly as she put the clean plates away. It was only when she reached for the glasses that she realized her mistake!

"You sure, Ms Theoretical Astrophysicist?" He said in a teasing tone as he got up and walked over to her.

Crap! "Eh…"

That lopsided grin of his appeared on his face as he came up to her side. "Because that lady on TV said there are only one hundred and sixteen."

"Oh, well then I guess it's a difference in our timelines," she replied with a shrug. It was a good excuse because really, it was the truth; if not for Ernest Littlefield's discovery of the so-called Rosetta Stone used by the Ancient Alliance for communication on Heliopolis then they wouldn't have known there were one hundred and forty-six elements in total around the galaxies either.

"Right," he said skeptically. "I guess you had a bit of an advantage by being able to traipse around the galaxy. So, do all those other elements only occur outside of our solar system like that other one you mentioned before?"

Sam rolled her eyes before yawning. "I have no idea and I'm really not in the mood to discuss it."

O'Neill seemed surprised at her brusque tone as she brushed past him. "Something wrong, Sam?"

She was inclined to ask him the same thing because he was still looking off, his face a bit paler than she'd gotten used to and he wasn't as tactile or affectionate as usual. Almost as if his mind was elsewhere and she couldn't help but wonder what was so important to make him this preoccupied. But she wasn't in the mood for a fight or an argument and if he didn't want to be here then maybe he should just go. "I'm just tired."

"Oh."

The idea that Ba'al had been spotted entering their solar system had gone through her mind as a reason for his behavior but she'd doubted that was the case. Otherwise he would have probably been either with his family or joining some Special Forces group and she would most likely be hauled over to whoever was in charge of her life these days. Now though, she started to wonder if maybe it had something to do with her, or the two of them. He seemed awkward and uncomfortable at the implication that she was going to bed. Perhaps he really had been visiting his family the past few days and now he was feeling guilty, she thought to herself. "Are you staying the night or are you going back to base?"

"What?" Surprise flashed over his face and he looked at her oddly.

"I'm going to bed and you've been acting weird all day so if you want to go then now is the time," she said, barely refraining from calling him by his name. Any name. Sam was careful not to call him anything aloud, not his rank or his name but at night she always called him 'Jack'. Perhaps that was bothering him? He had asked her about it once, when they'd met up after their first 'morning after' and she had called him Colonel. He certainly didn't seem to have any problems calling her by her name, in bed or out of it. It didn't matter that her Jack would only call her 'Sam' on in certain situations and 'Carter' in others, or 'Samantha' every now and then. Sam was just happy O'Neill wasn't calling her 'Sara' by mistake.

"No, I want to stay," he replied. But his voice was hesitant and he averted his eyes. She tried to tell herself it shouldn't bother her as he started fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as well. "I'm sorry; I just have a lot on my mind."

Yeah, you and me both, she thought. "You don't have to explain," she said instead. It wasn't like she was explaining anything that was going on in her head either so she didn't think he owed her an explanation for anything. "You finish watching your show and decide what you want to do. I'll be in bed. Please lock up when you're ready and if you want to leave use the garage door."

"Sam…"

She ignored him and walked down the corridor, annoyed with him that he had to bring whatever was bothering him with him but even more so with herself for letting him and his moods get to her. Entering the master bedroom she headed straight for the bathroom to do her usual routine. She hated how dependent she had become on him now that she was basically isolated from other people. Not that she was a prisoner in her house but other than her friends and loved ones there wasn't anyone she wanted to see and that simply wasn't possible, either because she wasn't allowed or because she had no idea where they were in this timeline.

There was the possibility of making new friends here in the life this government had created for her but not only did it mean befriending them as Alice – who had no job, no academic achievements to speak of and no real hobbies either – it also meant more people she would lose once she restored the timeline. It was already hard on her knowing that everyone here would cease to exist once her plan came to fruition, especially now that she had gotten to know Colonel O'Neill better and knew his son – the one her Jack was still grieving for – was still alive here, but wouldn't once she was done. She really couldn't afford to forge more friendships because that would only cause her more heartache down the line.

Like she had told John Sheppard once about a year ago; this kind of decision used to be easy but then she'd just been making it for herself. Now it would affect everyone in the universe. And in the end she would be the only one to remember it. Sam briefly wondered if it was similar to how Teal'c must feel about the fifty years they had spent on _Odyssey _in a time dilation bubble; he was the only one who remembered what had happened during those years after they had reversed it and refused to speak of it in fear of creating a time paradox by influencing the future that had yet to happen. She had always respected his choice and frankly had no desire to know what she'd done during the fifty years she'd been marooned on a spaceship without Jack, but she also knew his reasoning was false. Clearly that future had already been altered by them returning and she was pretty sure nothing like this had happened either.

Still, it was something she had to consider, Sam thought as she made her way back to bed. What would they tell everyone once they returned home if they retained their memories? Or maybe how much was a better question. Perhaps she should sit down with Teal'c to discuss it and maybe get some useful tips from him. It would definitely be one of the stranger conversations she'd ever had in her life, even with her job.

Sam had just turned off the lights and settled down under the covers, successfully not thinking about O'Neill only a few feet away and what his decision would be for five minutes when the door to the bedroom opened again. She wondered if he was just coming to tell her he was leaving because he felt miserable about something he couldn't share with her when the door closed again. The rustle of clothes was audible and if she strained her ears she could hear his almost stealthy footfall as it made its way to the other side of the room. Another door opened but there was no clicking sound so she figured he kept the door to the bathroom open but she refused to turn around and look.

Suddenly the mattress dipped and she realized she'd dozed off when she opened her eyes and saw the soft glow of the light on his nightstand illuminating the room. There were some odd sounds, as if he was digging around for something and it took her a moment to place it; he was probably emptying his pockets. Only he never did that, most likely because of the jamming device she had seen on his keychain when she checked his pockets the morning after they'd first slept together. Not because she was snooping, although technically she probably was but only because she needed to know for sure if he had taken precautions against the NID listening in via the audio bug in her bedroom. She had only resorted to it after checking the room with her homemade EMF finder and discovering the bug was still functioning _and_ getting a reading from his clothes while he'd been sound asleep.

Her curiosity got the better of her when she heard him open the drawer of the nightstand before he stood up, so she rolled over to take a look. Squinting at the bright light it took her a moment to identify the items. "Condoms?"

O'Neill froze in the middle of undoing his zipper and looked at her. "Um, yeah."

"Why?" She questioned, suddenly wondering again if he had been spending time with another woman these past few days. One that wasn't her or Sara, since she herself was clean and assuming he still had a sex life with his wife and was clean himself then so was Sara. Unless he and his wife used condoms together but in that case he probably would have been more prepared when he'd tried seducing her.

"I just thought…" His voice trailed off as he tossed the little objects in the drawer, before closing it. "Doesn't hurt to be safe, you know."

Leaning up on her elbow she pinned him with a look. "We've been sleeping together for a month and _now_ you're worried about protection? I thought we'd already discussed this; I'm on birth control and Doctor Nimiziki's test proved I was clean too."

"It's just that I always told my kid to be safe, you know. Don't just rely on the girl to take oral contraception," he winced and shrugged. "Not that I don't trust you to take the pill or anything but accidents happen."

"So you're trying to set an example for your son, who doesn't even know we're seeing each other?" Sam questioned with a raised brow. It didn't make any sense and seeing how much difficulty he'd seemed to have to actually cross the line with her in the beginning she doubted he was having an affair with another woman, with whom he hadn't used protection either. "Does this have anything to do with why you've been acting so strange lately?"

For a moment it looked like he was going to protest or maybe deny he'd been acting differently but then he just sighed, continued undressing and sat down on the bed. "Sam…"

"Just tell me what's wrong." Her mind was going light-years a minute trying to come up with an explanation that made sense because the scenario that had immediately popped into her mind made her feel a bit sick. Not even the sight of him sitting naked in front of her under the warm, soft glow of the lamp made her feel better. "Jack," she urged him, laying her hand on his forearm.

His eyes flashed at the mention of his name and she could feel his muscles tense under her fingers. All of a sudden his face softened and his shoulders sagged a bit as he scooted closer to her. The sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach grew stronger despite his hand coming up to gently caress her cheek. "I'm not sure," he started, his lips briefly quirking in what she thought was supposed to be a reassuring smile before he continued. "I want you to just listen to me, okay?"

Swallowing the sudden lump in her throat Sam nodded and waited for him to explain. His intense gaze seemed to be searching her own for some kind of answer. Maybe he'd seen her pale or worse, turn green when her mind kept coming back to the same conclusion. She returned the small smile as best she could. "I'm listening."

"I learned something the other day and I promise you that I had nothing to do with this," O'Neill said, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort. He must have seen her imploring look when he glanced up at her face again because he finally just blurted whatever had been bothering him out. "I think your birth control pills are ineffective."

Her gasp was audible, almost loud in the silence that followed his confession and Sam tried to suppress the roiling of her stomach as his words sank in. Why hadn't she seen this coming? Why the hell had she trusted the doctor that had been appointed to her by the same government that had tried to convince her to leave the timeline alone and wanted her to make a life here and share her knowledge with them? "What?"

"I know," he mumbled, looking genuinely upset. Distressed even, although she couldn't be sure it was about the possibility of her being pregnant or her not believing he hadn't been involved with this from the get-go. "I swear I had no idea!"

"Are you sure? How did you find out?" She questioned, already getting out of bed to check the pills.

"Someone told me," O'Neill's reply sounded while she studied the pills and their strip in the bathroom.

Not seeing anything wrong or alarming with them she walked back to the bed and sat down next to him. "Who?" When he just gave her a look she was once again reminded that this wasn't her Jack, who wouldn't hesitate to name his source because he trusted her implicitly. "Do you trust them?"

"I think the information is reliable," he replied diplomatically as he took the strip from her.

"I don't see anything out of the ordinary," she remarked, before letting out a mirthless chuckle. "Not that I've ever taken a good look at my contraception before. When do you think they changed them?"

"Dunno," he shrugged and tossed the strip on the nightstand. "My source didn't know either but we both thought it was very likely you were never given the right ones."

Sam nodded an affirmative, already having come to the same conclusion before he'd even confirmed her fears about her pills. "Make that three of us. So this was some kind of desperate attempt to keep me here?" It sounded like something the NID from the early days would be capable of doing. It wasn't like they'd cared all that much about one life if it could save the many or even if it would just provide them with interesting scientific information about an alien's species.

"I swear I didn't know."

She averted her face, not wanting to look into his pleading eyes while she tried to think this through. It was probably safe to assume that O'Neill's source was telling the truth if they'd taken the chance to rat out the NID like this. For a fleeting moment she wondered who it could be. Maybe Malcolm? But if he'd been tailing her he probably wasn't high enough up the food chain to know things like these. Shaking herself she tried to focus on the issue at hand. Clearly whatever they had given her was influencing her menstrual cycle somewhat because she hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary the months she had been here. Unfortunately she wasn't familiar enough with the drugs to know what that meant. Perhaps they'd just lowered the dose of hormones, assuming that would be enough for her to conceive once she had accepted O'Neill into her bed…

It certainly explained the nature of his assignment, she thought to herself. At first she had just assumed their reasoning behind it was for her to fall in love and be happy with someone from this timeline to prevent her from getting any ideas about changing it. Perhaps she should have seen this coming. Why hadn't this occurred to her before? She had already known the NID was somewhat involved in their situation and O'Neill's assignment alone proved they didn't have any scruples here in this timeline either.

"Sam?"

She was startled from her thoughts by his hesitant touch of her shoulder. "What?"

"Do you believe me?"

Looking him in the eye she nodded slowly. The relief on his face was ironic considering the only reason she didn't doubt his word was because she knew he was married, something he _had_ lied about. "You were already having trouble with fitting me into your life," she said, reminded of their argument from last week. "I doubt you were planning on me getting pregnant if you were even hesitant about introducing me to your son."

"God," he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "It's not that I don't want to you to meet Tyler, it's just the planning… it's too soon. Hell, we're doing basically everything too soon and I would like to do one thing about our relationship right. Besides, it's going to be hard enough for him to get past you being a dead ringer for a dead astronaut."

"It's fine," Sam replied. It wasn't like she was really expecting him to introduce her to his son. If she were honest, she wasn't even sure if she _wanted_ to meet the boy. Or young man more likely. It would be too hard knowing how losing Charlie had impacted Jack. Right now they had more things to worry about. Scooting back over the mattress she slid underneath the covers again and let her head rest on the pillow as she tried to recall if anything abnormal had happened lately that could indicate she was pregnant.

Frowning, she rubbed her taut abdomen. How long had she been here in this timeline? If the pills they had given her during those first five weeks in custody had been fake or at least ineffective then the last one she had taken was the morning before that dreadful, time altering extraction ceremony mere hours before she had watched Jack die.

"Are you okay?" O'Neill lay down opposite her, his face about a feet away but the concern was clear in his dark eyes.

"I'm just trying to process this," she said softly. "I don't think anything has… eh, happened yet, you know. I don't feel any different."

He reached out to brush some hair out of her face and smiled encouragingly. "Maybe we should get a couple of those home pregnancy tests."

"I'll get some tomorrow." Her answer seemed to satisfy him because he nodded and reached back to turn off the light.

For most of her adult life Sam had been on some kind of birth control, oral contraceptives at first and then Depo-Provera injections once she'd been deployed into the field because those were easier and safer than having to take a pill every day in case of getting captured or lost. All those hormones influenced a woman's menstrual cycle and would still affect her fertility for a while until the excess had been flushed out of her system completely, which could take months. By the time she'd taken command of Atlantis she was back on oral contraceptives, having missed her final injection on purpose so she could start diminishing the intake of hormones in the hopes it would allow her to return to normal sooner so she and Jack could try to start a family.

This hadn't been part of the plan. But if she was anything like the average female then her body should still be adjusting, meaning there was only a very small chance she would actually conceive right now. Right now all she could hope for was that it was exactly like that, perhaps even worsened by the physical abuse her body had taken over the years. Not to mention the takeovers by alien entities and parasites. Jolinar had messed up her body chemistry but Janet had never been able to tell to what degree, especially not in regards to fertility since that wasn't something you could experiment with when on the frontlines and without a partner and none of the doctors that had followed over the years had been able to do it either.

Right now she felt a bit better, suspecting that the chances of her actually having fallen pregnant already or in the next two months or so would be very small. Not miniscule or negligible like she would have preferred but it certainly calmed the sick feeling in her stomach and made her feel like she could get some sleep.

"Good night," Sam whispered, rolling on her other side to turn her back on O'Neill. Odd, how this was the first time they would just go to sleep while sharing a bed since they had started sleeping together, she thought as he spooned up behind her.

* * *

><p><strong>J.S. Salvaging Inc<br>Trenton, New Jersey**

Daniel absentmindedly reached for his coffee, his eyes never leaving the book in front of him. He hadn't been sure at first that this was it because there weren't any readings of naquadah from the makeshift device the engineers had given him. That had been something 'Therra' had insisted they use in combination with the sonar and other equipment aboard the ship and the engineer had dutifully hooked it up and installed the accompanying computer software according to the instructions he'd been given. To the man's surprise it had worked and helped them pinpoint the location of the shipwreck on the seabed and then once they'd located it he'd disassembled the device as best he could and sent it back with some of the salvaged cargo for Daniel's use.

But the device had worked on other artifacts, some he'd recognized and stashed away and others that were unfamiliar to him. Maybe Sam knew what they were but right now he had no use for them. The amulet however had been a different story. This was the first time he actually saw it with his own eyes, held it in his hands and he only had Sarah or Osiris' description to go on because the Goa'uld had taken it with him when escaping from Earth. The moment Daniel had come across the gold amulet with the small ebony portion he'd gotten excited. But the lack of naquadah had worried him. However, now that he had found the amulet's description and rough drawing of the representation of Osiris with his crook and flail and the ankh in the center in one of the research books he'd bought he was convinced this was the one!

Smiling triumphantly he swallowed the last of his tepid coffee and gathered his things. A look at the clock told him it wouldn't be long until the sun would rise and even though he assumed there was some kind of time difference between him and wherever Sam was living, he decided this was important enough to possibly wake her up in the middle of the night. Grabbing the cell phone she'd gotten him he dialed her number and waited with bated breath as it rang.

"Sam, I've found it!" He cried when it was answered.


	33. Day Ninety Seven of a New Life

**Day 97  
>McChord Air Force Base<br>Lakewood, Washington**

There was a flurry of activity in the overcrowded meeting room with new personnel arriving every ten minutes or so but no one was actually leaving. All the chairs had already been taken over an hour ago and now there were at least a dozen airmen and even more NID operatives lined up against the wall. Jack was glad he had managed to claim a seat before the big crowds had come in after hearing the news. Simmons and Kennedy were standing near the laptop in the corner talking in hushed tones during their little break before they would continue their briefing, while Hammond as the highest ranking officer in the room was seated at the head of the table and Hank sat to his left. Jack had secured his spot to his CO's right when he'd been called in this morning.

Looking around the room he imagined this was what controlled chaos looked like if it existed. In the beginning everyone had stayed quiet while the NID operatives did their thing but now, fifteen minutes after Kennedy had decided a short ten-minute break was in order everyone was whispering among themselves in excited tones. Jack, on the other hand, had kept quiet and to himself as he tried calling Sam to no avail.

It had been just around sunrise when he woke up to the shrill sound of a cell phone this morning and it had taken him a minute to find the darn phone and answer it. It had been Hammond, telling him to get to base ASAP because they had made a major discovery. When his commanding officer told him it had something to do with 'Alice' and her friends but couldn't go into detail on an unsecure line, Jack had asked him if he needed to bring her in. That hadn't been necessary yet, so he'd gotten up and dressed.

To his surprise Sam hadn't been in bed anymore and her spot under the covers was cold already. There had been a note on the alarm clock, saying she had gone for a run to clear her head. It hadn't come unexpected to him because he'd been lying awake for hours after they'd gone to bed, thinking about what the NID had done and what the consequences could be while she'd dozed off within minutes and slept like a baby. At the time it had taken him aback but he figured she'd just pushed the whole thing to the back of her mind until they could get a few pregnancy tests and know if they were screwed or not. Apparently the enormity of the situation had settled in the moment she woke up and she had become restless. He hadn't even noticed her getting up, although he could vaguely recall her getting out of bed and going into the bathroom around 0300 hours but he'd fallen back asleep before she'd come back.

In turn he had left her a note saying he'd been called back to base and would call later this morning in the hopes of catching her when she returned from her run and that they needed to talk about last night, perhaps over lunch or dinner depending on how long he'd be gone. But it was already 1034 hours now and he'd been unable to get her on the line. It made him worry but he was forced to sit through this briefing because according to Hank it was 'all hands on deck' right now.

"Gentleman, may I have your attention please," General Kennedy spoke as he stepped back in front of the screen.

Jack reluctantly returned his attention to the man, putting his phone back into his pocket. He'd just received an email from Farrity but he hadn't opened it yet and he was sure he'd be reprimanded if he checked it now, considering the impatient look on Hammond's face.

"As I mentioned before this unidentified object we have found buried underground in a clearing in the Montana woodland might be from alien origin."

A few chuckles and a gasped "A spaceship!" arose after Kennedy's words, but the airmen were quickly silenced by the General's glare. Jack couldn't blame them because that would have probably been his reaction too if he hadn't known Sam's story. Now, it didn't seem so out there anymore to think there could be old spaceships lying around Earth. That Jackson guy _had_ mentioned something about those Goa'uld leaving Earth millennia ago, some in a hurry others not so much. Go figure they'd leave their damaged crap behind.

"We're in luck that this clearing isn't too far removed from Malmstrom Air Force Base, near Great Falls," Simmons chimed in.

Kennedy nodded at his 2IC and took over again. "After conferring with the brass and those in command at Malmstrom we have decided to work together. At this moment they are setting up a perimeter around the clearing and we have already called in some scientists to help us determine what we're dealing with and how to dig it out. There is also concern about possible radiation and explosions, as the object was only discovered after a small explosion was heard which resulted in exposure of what looks to be a hatch."

Jack watched as Kennedy suddenly started searching his pockets and retrieved his cell phone, which was ringing softly and excused himself to take the call. He figured it was from one of his goons on site and turned to his own phone to check the email. Apparently Farrity had found some new information and was awaiting his call. Right now Jack couldn't get away even if he wanted to with the airmen in the back of the room blocking the exit, so he decided to wait for the next break and in the meantime texted Sam to ask why she wasn't answering her phone and if everything was all right as inconspicuously as possible. God, what if she'd gone out and got herself a pregnancy test and was now too scared to tell him the results?

"I have just received an update from Malmstrom," Kennedy announced as he retook his earlier position and went back to the laptop. After a few minutes he pulled up some new images, which showed the clearing being covered by a large white tent to keep prying eyes away, some equipment and lots of airmen and a few civilians – presumably the scientists – walking around. "From initial sonar readings it seems this object is about sixteen feet long by ten feet wide and the handful of scientists that are examining the material the hatch is made of are stumped; the material is definitely not terrestrial and unlike anything they've ever seen."

The men around the room started talking excitedly again, some spouting off ridiculous conspiracy theories while others were thinking more rational. A few were rather focused on the new material, already theorizing what it could be and how much better it was than anything the military – or the world really – had at its disposal.

"Don't you think that's kind of small?" Jack questioned when there was a lull in the conversation and Kennedy and Simmons had retreated to their little corner again, talking with Hank.

"What do you mean, son?" Hammond questioned, his eyes darting between the screen and Jack.

He shrugged and made a vague hand gesture. "Well, look at it. For a spaceship that's got to be a mini edition! It couldn't hold more than what, five maybe six people?"

"Unless the aliens are really small," someone joked from the back of the room, adding a belated "Sir".

"Your point is noted, Colonel," Kennedy said in a dismayed tone.

Jack had settled back in his chair, stealthily sneaking a glance at his cell phone but there still wasn't a reply for Sam. Suddenly a dreadful feeling came over him as he recalled something. "Sir, you said this was close to Great Falls?"

"Yes, the airmen from Malmstrom were the first on the scene after one of them heard or saw the explosion. I'm unclear on the details at the moment," Kennedy muttered.

"Just how close is it to Billings?" He questioned, recalling how Sam had gone for a morning run on their first stay there. She had left rather early in the morning, sneaking out of the motel room next to him and even though her outfit and appearance seemed to back up her story he had never really been satisfied with her explanation. But he did recall seeing directions to Great Falls as they drove through Montana on their road trip…

When Kennedy turned to Simmons, the other colonel shrugged. "If I would have to guess I'd say twenty, maybe twenty-five miles."

Was it possible she had gone out into the woodlands in the middle of the night to… to do what? He had no idea but suddenly he had the feeling there was more to this sudden discovery and his gut was telling him it had something to do with Sam. She had been acting way too innocent that morning and her story had sounded just like that, a story. She could run, what, ten miles an hour? Or so she said, he thought darkly. Maybe she could get even farther, especially if she had a goal to reach, like say a spaceship hidden in the woods. But why would it be discovered now? There was just something hinky about this and he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Son?"

"Eh," Jack looked at Hammond, realizing Simmons was already back to ignoring him. "Just something about, er… Alice, Sir. Remember my report from our road trip? That first stop in Montana, we stayed in a motel on the outer edge of Billings and she had gone for a run very early in the morning, in unknown terrain and was rather vague about it."

"You think she has something to do with this? If so, then what reason could she have for going there?"

"I have no idea, Sir," he admitted with a frown. "There's just something off about this."

The three-star looked at him for a moment before he nodded, almost as if he was agreeing with himself. "Have you asked her about it? Today, I mean?"

"I didn't think I was allowed to tell her about our find."

"Well, she'll probably be involved with it sooner or later," Hammond shrugged. "I'll put it under advisement with the others." Then he cleared his throat and aimed his attention to the room. "We'll take another break and reconvene in ten so we can discuss what kind of support is needed at Malmstrom."

Most people slowly cleared out of the room although some remained seated or standing and a few went over to the coffee and tea that had been placed on the other side of the room.

Jack took the opportunity to sneak out to make a call. Again he got no answer from Sam's phone and when her voicemail kicked in for the umpteenth time that day he started to get really worried. He even tried her landline but there was no answer there either. Maybe he should ask Hammond if he could go over to her house to check on her? The Texan would probably be reluctant to allow him to leave considering everything that was going on but Sam was rather important to the military as well. More than likely she trumped whatever spaceship they could get their hands on considering she was one of few people who actually had experience with alien ships and without her they probably couldn't even turn it on.

He went back to the door and peeked into the meeting room but by the looks of it Hammond was busy talking to the NID and Hank, so Jack decided to get some fresh air and went outside. After trying to call Sam two more times he gave up for the moment and decided to give Farrity a call, to see what the man found.

"_Hey buddy_," Farrity said upon answering his phone.

Jack grunted something incomprehensible at the greeting and figured a direct approach would probably save him a lot of time and patience. "Do you remember what you told me about the salvaging company's building in Trenton? That they'd supplied the paperwork for it rather late in the process?"

"_Er, yes. Why, what do you want to know?"_

"Does it say when they signed the contract or something like that? Is there a mention of a date?"

There were some muffling sounds followed by the rustle of paper as Farrity apparently checked a file of some sort. _"It was somewhere in late August if I recall correctly… ah yes, here it is_," he replied, mentioning the date.

"Damn it!" Jack kicked against the wall behind him in frustration and rested his head against the cool brick. That was the Monday Sam had gone into Trenton and had been unaccounted for for over an hour, maybe even an hour and a half thanks to the ineptness of the NID tail Simmons had assigned to her. He could still recall how his concerns about it had been brushed off because of the ticket to the observatory show she'd just happened to throw away in front of Agent Beret, or whatever the hell his name was.

"_Jack, are you okay?_"

"Ah, yeah, I'm fine. Just didn't expect that to be the case," he lamely explained. He hadn't _hoped_ it to be true, was more like it. First Montana and now Trenton? That couldn't be a coincidence, right?

"_Well, maybe this will cheer you up a bit. That buddy of mine who I'd asked to check into Carlin's finances? He came through for me unexpectedly and managed to trace some of her money from before it was transferred to her offshore account. A large amount of money was deposited in Atlantic City on her personal account, which isn't surprising considering the casinos there and my buddy said there wasn't anything suspicious about it. From there on out there were a few smaller deposits here and there, mostly on the west coast and in themselves there was nothing alarming about it but in total it's a large sum-"_

Jack grimaced as the picture formed in his head. Trenton and Atlantic City and from there on out to the west coast? Just like he and Sam had traveled. "Let me guess, the money was eventually transferred to her business account?"

Farrity sighed on the other end of the line, muttering something under his breath before he spoke up again. "_Um, yes and no. That friend of mine said the lady had gone through a complicated process to make it more difficult to trace but in the end it indeed ended up on that offshore account._"

"What about-Oh crap," he groaned, seeing one of the other officers waving at him that the break was over. "Look, I have to get back to a meeting or my CO will have my ass-"

"_But there's more! I didn't manage to trace her entire background but I found a picture."_

"Email it to me; I've got to get back inside. I'll call you back as soon as I can get out of there. O'Neill out," he said. Clenching his jaw in frustration upon this news he disconnected the call and pocketed his phone as he made his way back inside. His chair was still empty, as if waiting for him and he gladly sat down, looking around for Hammond and the others.

Once everyone quieted down the three generals and Simmons reappeared at the table and took their seats, with Kennedy calling out names to let those that were leaving for Malmstrom in half an hour know what was expected of them while Hammond turning towards Jack. "Colonel, I'm afraid a hunch isn't good enough to warrant further investigation," he spoke in a hushed tone. "Unfortunately the NID needs a little more proof about any wrongdoing of Ms Carter."

"There's more," Jack said. His voice sounded strange, even to his own ears and he realized his hands were trembling with suppressed anger. She had played him all along… worse, he'd fallen for it and not for a moment had he suspected she would be capable of any of this. Clearly he'd let himself be blinded by the unexpected feelings she'd elicited in him and looked the other way whenever something happened that wasn't quite right. Still, he thought as he narrowed his eyes at Simmons, he hadn't been the only one responsible for letting her get this far. On more than one occasion he'd raised certain issues with the NID, Simmons in specific when it came to her surveillance and the inadequate people tailing her but no one had listened to him.

"Like what?"

Jack looked at his CO and grabbed his cell phone, opening the attachment Farrity had emailed him. There, on the small screen Sam was staring back at him. Granted, she looked a bit different, with her hair out of her face and wearing glasses, but it was her nonetheless. The accompanying message said it was the picture used at the Olympia Credit Union when she'd opened an account there. The building basically around the corner from the Olympian library, not even one hundred sixty meters away. All that time spent in the ladies room… but again, no one had listened to him. "General, meet Therra Carlin."

The Texan's eyes widened as he looked at the screen and his face turned slightly red after a few seconds. "Is that…?"

"Therra Carlin, the woman who owns the salvaging company Jackson is working at. But we know her as Samantha Carter, or Alice Liddell," Jack replied in a whisper.

"Are you sure, Colonel?"

He snorted, shaking his head. "Trust me, Sir, I'd recognize those blue eyes and that soft smile anywhere."

Hammond gave him an odd look before he turned towards Hank and Kennedy. They spoke in hushed tones as Simmons took over where his CO had left off and continued dividing the present men in groups for their trip to Malmstrom Air Force Base, where they would be digging out an alien spaceship.

"That will be all, thank you," the three-star suddenly announced, interrupting the NID Colonel. "Colonel Simmons will be waiting for you at transport while you have fifteen minutes to get your things and gear up. Dismissed." With that Hammond stood and gestured for Simmons to leave. "Colonel O'Neill, a word please."

Jack sighed and waited until everyone but his CO, Hank and Kennedy had left. Suddenly all eyes were on him, making him shift uncomfortably in his chair. He started to relay what Farrity had told him, explained why he'd investigated the salvaging company and Therra Carlin on his own and what this could possibly mean. "So I think that's more than enough proof that Samantha Carter is up to something, Sirs."

"That's all circumstantial, Jack," Hank brushed it off.

"Oh for crying out loud, where are we, in court? What the hell does it matter what kind of evidence it is; it clearly proves she had something up her sleeve!"

Kennedy pursed his lips as he took another look at the photo on Jack's phone and then shrugged dismissively. "The OSI gave her those glasses, this picture could have been taken anytime anywhere. Perhaps you've gotten _too_ close to your target, Colonel."

"Look, my guy at the FBI told me where and when it was taken. I'm pretty sure you will find she was supposedly held up in the ladies room in the library at that time if you look at the oh so thorough reports your NID operatives submitted of tailing her," Jack replied. "Obviously she had planned this all along; remember how she suggested the trip to Atlantic City, where she won a lot of money that coincidentally funded the salvaging company her pal Jackson is now working at?"

"I must agree with Colonel O'Neill on this," Hammond muttered, his face a nice shade of red.

Hank shook his head and raised his caterpillar-like eyebrows. "This is all the more reason to investigate the spaceship in Montana-"

"Oh come on," Jack cried, "that is just another thing she planned when she snuck off into the woods that day."

"Maybe not," Kennedy said.

"Perhaps she was trying to find the ship but failed and returned before you would notice she was gone, Jack. This could give us the upper hand. Who knows, this ship might hold the key to fixing the timeline."

Hammond peered at the other two generals, clearly contemplating their reasoning. "You really think by digging up this spaceship we'll be withholding whatever it is she needs to alter life as we know it, Hank?"

Hank and Kennedy exchanged looks, before the former turned back to Hammond and Jack. "Tell you what; Jack, you go back to Carter's house and take her into custody as she has obviously been acting against the NDA she signed with us and we," he gestured between himself and Kennedy, "will supervise the dig in Montana. We could liaise through you, George."

For a moment Jack thought Hammond was going to blow and wipe that smug look off Hank's face but to his surprise the Texan just let out a deep sigh and nodded. "Sir?"

"I think that's an excellent plan. I will also contact Colonel Maybourne to fill him in about the salvaging company and have him check up on Jackson, see what he knows." The other two generals nodded and after an almost imperceptible jerk of Hammond's head in the direction of the door they got up and left.

"With all due respect, Sir, I thought you said you agreed with me?" Jack questioned once it was just the two of them.

He got up and flashed a brief smile. "I do, Colonel. It was clear to me, however that they don't. Or at least they don't want to know something has gone wrong with their perfect little plan to trap Ms Carter. They can't accept that they've been outsmarted by this resourceful young woman, so they will only be in our way. I want you to go look for her, son and bring her back here. Like I said I will apprise Colonel Maybourne and get Jackson in here too."

* * *

><p><strong>1143 hours<br>Liddell Residence  
>Rainier, Washington<strong>

"Crap, crap, crap!" Jack yelled as he tore through Sam's walk-in closet. One of her larger bags was gone and he didn't think there were so many empty hangers here before. Some shoes were missing off the rack too, although he had no idea what kind. Probably sneakers or maybe boots. Did she even have such footwear? Christ, she'd outsmarted him again! Not only were some of her clothes missing but when he took another good look around the bathroom he realized some of her toiletries were gone as well.

His note still lay where he'd left it, untouched. Her cell phone was still here, with all of his missed calls and unopened texts showing up. Sam had never gone out for a run this morning and instead she had made a break for it! Jack had no idea if this was motivate by the knowledge of the NID's scheme for giving her faulty contraception or if there was some other reason behind it. There had to be some sort of connection with the spaceship in the woodlands, right?

Maybe it was supposed to be a distraction? She wouldn't have gone looking for it if it hadn't been important to her, considering the risk she'd taken of him finding out what she'd been doing. Of course he'd just accepted her lame story about going for a run without pressing her further… Cursing himself once more he reached for his phone.

His fingers hovered over the contact number for the NID surveillance but he soon realized it wouldn't help him one bit seeing how there wouldn't be any useful recordings of the bedroom. Damn, he had given her the perfect cover by staying the night with the jamming device in his pocket. She had to have found out about it somehow and used it to her advantage, like she had with most things. Just the way she had used him…

Then again, he had used her as well, hadn't he? In his case it was even worse considering his motivation and the fact that he was married and had lied about it, Jack admitted to himself. All she wanted to do was go home. Could he really blame her for that? They should have known Sam would never settle for a life here. There were just some lines that shouldn't be crossed and entering an alternate timeline was one of them, he decided.

Before he could stop himself he was calling Maybourne. "Harry, it's me."

"_Jack! General Hammond has just informed me about the situation. I can't believe Carter pulled one over us!"_ The man chuckled, as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

"It's worse than that," he told him. "She's gone. Not a trace of her at her house and some of her stuff is missing. She's on the run."

There was a sudden silence on the other end, almost as if Harry couldn't quite believe it. "_I'm almost at Jackson's apartment right now, but I doubt I'll find anything there. It's on my way to his office and I hope I'll have more luck there."_

"They're in on this together, I swear," Jack muttered. "Look, I'll check in with my contact at the FBI and see if he knows something that can help us. I'll call you back if I know more." He didn't even have time to sign off before they were disconnected and then he was calling Farrity again. "What else did you have on Carlin?"

"_Jack, I'm glad you called me back, I was ready to go out for lunch you know, buddy!"_

Groaning, he ran a hand over his face, biting down a snappy retort. "Look, I need to find Therra Carlin, do you have anything I can use?"

"_Oh, I thought that was why you called this morning…"_

"What was?"

"_Remember how I flagged her in the system? Well, she popped up on my radar this morning when I came into work; she took a flight to Trenton, New York in the middle of the night."_

Jack nearly snapped his cell phone in half as his fists clenched in rage. "At what time?"

"_Her plane landed about three hours ago_."

"Christ!" That meant she hadn't just slipped out of bed to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. She had packed up her things while he was half asleep and half waiting for her to return to bed, but eventually he'd dozed off again. The woman sure had guts to slip out right from under his nose, he gave her that. "Anything else? Has she popped up elsewhere?"

"_No, I'm sorry buddy."_

Rolling his eyes in exasperation Jack came up with a plan. "That's okay. Thank you and call me the minute she even buys a ticket to someplace, okay? O'Neill out." He didn't think she was really stupid enough to use her own name or Therra Carlin's again. Of course she had no idea he was aware of her alias and would have never used it in the first place if she had known it was flagged in the system. But her final destination had obviously been Trenton, presumably to meet up with Jackson.

There had to be some reason for the two of them to work together on this salvaging business so the first thing he needed to do was find out what exactly the company was looking for. Maybe they had found it already and that's why Sam had left? Perhaps it was just pure coincidence it happened right after he'd told her about the birth control pills… What was she up to? Jack knew her endgame would be restoring the timeline but where would she go to do that? He couldn't just let her do that, not when it meant Tyler would die once it was reset and everything he knew would be no more. But if she _was_ pregnant with his baby then could he just hand her over to the NID?

Shaking himself, Jack tried to focus on his main objective; for now he had to locate Sam and to do that he had to know what her company was involved with. Maybourne would probably know considering he'd been keeping an eye on Jackson and the best part was that he was already there. It would take Jack at least five hours to get to Trenton and by the time he touched down Harry could have already found something. Or better yet, someone. Who knew, maybe the rat bastard could even intercept Sam at Jackson's place or at the salvaging company…

* * *

><p><strong>1512 hours<br>Trenton, New Jersey**

Daniel couldn't keep his eyes off Sam as she sat next to him. Her hair was longer than when he'd last seen her and despite everything she must have gone through these past few months she looked really good. There were some signs of exhaustion on her face, a few dark smudges under her eyes she hadn't bothered to hide with makeup but her smiles had been genuine and almost radiant. He hadn't realized up until now how much he'd missed her and how one of her smiles could always make him feel a bit better. It was infectious and automatically made him return the smile. He couldn't remember the last time he'd really smiled but since she'd entered his office three hours ago and hugged him he hadn't stopped.

"Are you okay, Daniel? Is it your leg?"

"Um, no," he subconsciously rubbed his leg just above his prosthetic. "I was just thinking how much I've missed your smile."

Her grin widened and her eyes sparkled teasingly. "Just my smile?"

"No, all of you," he grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her against him. "It was so difficult not to call you once I had that phone."

"I know," Sam sighed, brushing some hair out of her face. "I had to keep telling myself it wasn't worth the risk of getting caught before we got here."

Daniel nodded in understanding and gave her a quick onceover. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"There's no other way," she shrugged. "I can catch a few more hours of shuteye once we're on the plane. Are you ready for this? We'll have to move fast because I don't know how long I'll be able to use the device."

He reached into his bag and pulled out the small harakash, the weapon ashrak often used. It was a good thing it had been aboard the shipwreck like they'd hoped otherwise they would have had to come up with another way to board a transatlantic flight without a passport. They had seen how the ashrak who'd come after Jolinar and nearly killed Sam in the process had easily infiltrated the SGC with his device. Sam had never used one of these before but she had some limited experience with other Goa'uld hand devices and was confident she could use this one too to get them through customs on this small airport. Handing her the weapon he gave her an encouraging smile. "Ready when you are."

"Then we better get going now that we still have a head start of a couple of hours," she replied, sliding the device on her fingers.


	34. Day Ninety Eight of a New Life

**1823 hours  
>Somewhere above the Atlantic<strong>

They had gone through customs almost three hours ago and it had been surprisingly easy. Once there weren't any other people around they had simply walked up, trying to be as casual as possible and then suddenly Sam had wielded the harakash like a professional. There had been one man who'd reacted and tried to take action when he saw that Sam was basically hypnotizing his colleagues but Daniel had used his cane to make him trip and then Sam had turned her attention to the man on the floor. Five minutes later they had been strolling along with no one trying to stop them.

It had taken Daniel the first hour in the plane to calm down and for his hands to stop shaking from the nerves. They had never done anything like this and every time he saw movement from the corner of his eye he'd thought someone had discovered what they'd done and were coming for them. Sam had estimated her trick to work for anything from fifteen minute up to half an hour and then the men wouldn't remember a thing. According to her it was unlikely anyone would try to stop them, unless the NID or the Air Force found out what they were up to and tracked them down. In that case they might come after them and try to escort the plane to a safe landing site, meaning he would be better off keeping an eye out the window for any fighter jet escorts than jumping up every time someone went up to the restroom.

"Daniel, are you okay?" Sam questioned. "Is your leg hurting?"

It was only when she covered his hand with hers that he realized he'd been rubbing his leg again. "I'm fine." Seeing her skeptical look he shrugged. "Just a little cramping, it'll pass."

"I shouldn't have made you walk so fast," she said with self-reproach.

"Don't worry about me, Sam." He turned his hand over, palm up and squeezed hers encouragingly with a small smile on his face. "It's just been a long day and I'm not used to walking that much."

She quickly covered her mouth and yawned before looking back at him. "How are you dealing with it?"

Daniel knew she was referring to losing his leg and it surprised him that he actually had to think about it before answering. So far he'd always claimed he was fine but he knew Sam would probably see right through it. Was he really fine? Of course, he would love to have his entire leg back but that wasn't the reality and while he was still a bit anxious about what would happen once they got back home, he knew he could live with this. As a matter of fact, he should be happy he was still alive because he had never expected to survive the Arctic once his foot had hit the water aboard _Achilles_. Dying didn't hold that many mysteries for him anymore and it hadn't been the first time he'd urged his teammates – his friends – to leave him behind to save themselves. They both knew that, just as they'd both known they were really saying goodbye for the last time back on the Arctic ice when he'd told her and Mitchell to go and get some help. "I'm… I don't know, I'm dealing with it, I guess."

"Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes," he replied after a beat. Lying wouldn't fool her; she was too smart and knew him too well.

She suddenly looked alarmed and shifted in her seat. "Oh! I should have offered you the seat near the aisle, to give you some more legroom."

"I'm fine, this is fine," he chuckled, waving her worries away with the flick of his wrist. "Don't worry so much, Sam."

"I can't help it, I've missed you so much and I feel like I've let you down," she confessed in a small voice.

Taken aback by her admission, Daniel stared at her for a moment. "Let me down? Don't be ridiculous. If it wasn't for you we wouldn't even be here having this conversation. I'd still be in my awful, depressing apartment in New York without knowing how you were!"

"I'm sure you would have come up with something," Sam muttered. "If it wasn't for you we wouldn't have the amulet."

"I only have it because you managed to salvage it," he gently reminded her.

She shrugged, seemingly unconvinced about how big her part was in all this. Not just them getting here but also his own recovery. He had known she would think of something and then she had contacted him out of the blue; it had given him the determination to get through his physical therapy and regain as much of leg function as possible. Daniel recognized her mood though and knew it would be of no use to try and convince her now.

The exhaustion was now more pronounced on her face and even though she hadn't said anything he assumed using the small hand device had been draining. Using the kind of Goa'uld technology requiring naquadah in the user's bloodstream always was for her. Somehow it never seemed to take as much of a toll on Vala, who had also been a host to a Goa'uld, named Qetesh. Perhaps that was because Vala had used the Goa'uld hand devices under Qetesh's control. It was possible her body had grown used to the energy and focus it took or maybe it was because she had actual experience with it and had basically learned how to use the technology, unlike Sam who'd been a brief host to Jolinar and only found out by chance she could use it, relying on the memories the Tok'ra had left her with.

He shuddered as he fleetingly thought about what Vala's fate might be in this timeline, or Teal'c's for that matter; he really didn't want to know. Besides, it wouldn't matter much anyway now that they were getting closer to their goal. "Sam?"

"Hm?" She turned her head to look at him, her eyes blinking sleepily and the worn, olive drab cap she was wearing casting shadows over her familiar features. "What is it?"

"Have you also been in contact with Mitchell?"

Sam nodded, almost appearing reluctant to discuss it. "Yes, he was doing fine. He's in Kansas, by the way."

"Must feel right at home," Daniel mused aloud. "Is that why he isn't here?"

"It was too dangerous to wait for him to meet up with us and it might raise too much suspicion if all three of us suddenly shook off our surveillance."

He wondered if she was purposely misinterpreting his question and decided to be more direct. "Does he know about the plan?"

"Yeah," she gave a small smile. "Depending on how much he actually understood of my messages, of course."

He grinned at the image of Mitchell trying to figure out the Ancient script. It wasn't that he wasn't intelligent enough or anything like that but he'd never shown much interest in learning the language of the Ancients. His Goa'uld was rather limited as well, which wasn't surprising considering everyone on his team spoke the language to a degree. Heck, the guy spoke Mandarin so he certainly wasn't incapable of learning a complicated foreign language but it simply hadn't been all that necessary when he could rely on a Jaffa, a former Goa'uld and Tok'ra host or a linguist to do the translating, nor had there been much time to learn anything once he got command of SG-1. "Did you correspond with him the way you did with me?"

"You were like a pen pal with your long letters," Sam teased, "but communication between Cam and myself was a bit more to the point. Short sentences and not many details."

"How is he doing?"

She shrugged and pulled off her cap to fiddle with it, something Jack always used to do in the field as well. "He was settling in nicely with a new job and girlfriend. Since there wasn't much he could do all the way from Kansas we decided it was best if he just went about his life and be our backup in case we needed it."

"Um, okay," Daniel frowned, surprised he didn't want to be in on the action. Perhaps he saw this uneventful life as a nice break after all his hard work with SG-1. "Speaking of, how is Jack?" When Sam's eyes widened and she blanched in response he felt like slapping himself. "Eh, I meant Colonel O'Neill, of course," he stammered. "He visited me once, did you know that? To check up on me and he told me you were doing fine and that he was on his way to visit Mitchell. I figured the NID would probably assign him to keep an eye on you, not that it mattered, obviously."

"He's um, fine," Sam mumbled. Her eyes were downcast, locked on the cap she was still holding and she seemed to be purposely evading his gaze. "With any luck he's too busy in Montana with Martin's escape pod right now to have noticed me sneaking off."

His eyebrows shot up at that revelation. "Nice distraction… how did you manage that?"

"I planted a small device that I could activate remotely after which it would short-circuit, resulting in a small explosion as the hatch would open," she replied with a shrug.

"Wow. But, er, if we need his help then how are we going to get to him?"

She leaned closer, probably trying to minimize the chance someone would overhear them and think they were insane. "I'm not sure yet, I'm hoping we don't need his help but with Osiris' archaic teltac we'd reach Montana in minutes."

"Do you think it's a good idea to overpower him there when there's probably a lot of military around?"

"It's possible he's gone back to Washington already-"

"DC?"

"No, I lived in Washington State, near McChord Air Force Base," she explained. "But if he knows we're both gone he could also be in New York, looking for clues… maybe even Kansas if he thinks Cam knows where we are."

Daniel let out a deep sigh, wondering how they were ever going to find the man. "Well…"

"Don't worry, we'll figure it out," Sam reassured him with a gentle smile. "Now, if you don't mind I'm going to try and get some sleep. You might want to try the same, it will be a few more hours until we land."

He knew she was right. She had immediately jumped on a plane to fly across the country after he'd called her in the middle of the night and then she had to use the Goa'uld device, which would only add to her exhaustion. After working through the night he was tired too and could certainly use a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>1848 hours<br>J.S. Salvaging Inc.  
>Trenton, New Jersey<strong>

Jack walked confidently through the corridors with his colonel mask firmly in place, ensuring no one would bother him or stop to ask him what he was doing there. The scowl didn't require much effort since he was still pissed as hell at Sam for running off like this and, moreover, fooling him for all this time. He still couldn't quite grasp how she'd managed that, nor could he distinguish what had been real and what had been a lie. If any of it had been real, at all.

Had it all been an act for her? It was hard for him to believe she was just that good of an actress… did it mean she'd seen right through his own lies? Ironically, not everything he had done and said had been a lie, as much as he would wish it had been. Damn her and his foolish heart for falling for her! God, he had known from the start that woman was trouble but no one had wanted to listen to him. Now, not only had she wreaked havoc with his feelings but she was more than likely on her way to change the world as they knew it!

Double checking the room number he'd written down when he'd called Maybourne after landing Jack turned the corner and searched for Jackson's office. It didn't take him long to find and he barged in without knocking, smirking as Harry nearly jumped up. "Long time no see, Harry."

"Jack! I didn't think you'd come all the way down here. Don't you trust me? I'm hurt," Maybourne said mockingly, before grinning.

"Still no sign of Jackson?"

"No, I was just looking through his computer. Did you bring Carter's laptop like I asked?"

Jack nodded and handed the thing over to him. "What are you looking for?"

"There was no trace of Jackson in his apartment so I took his apartment with me from New York and I've found something interesting. It was hidden on this flash drive," Maybourne replied, indicating the little decapitated alien figuring attached to the laptop. "It was never registered by the software your guy installed."

"Hey, I resent that! Hammond was the one who got Folger or whoever the hell it was to put those computers together since their program was supposed to keep track of everything."

Harry snorted in reply, already booting up Sam's laptop. "Yeah right. I'm willing to bet your girlfriend is responsible for a bit of tweaking of the coding."

"She's not my girlfriend," Jack retorted, plopping down on one of the chairs. The office was a bit cramped and very unlike the spacious and rather empty apartment the archeologist had been living in. "So, I take it this means you're going to help me?"

"What, you want my help to track them down?"

"Oh come on, Harry," he cajoled, "you know you want to. I mean, this is the perfect way to get back at Kennedy for reassigning you and having Simmons take your place. Who knows what would happen if she succeeds in changing the timeline, maybe you'll be working for Simmons then doing his bidding."

Maybourne scowled at him over the laptops but his fingers didn't pause and flew over the keyboard. "To think I recruited that son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath. "So, what's this I heard about a spaceship in Montana of all places?"

"Ah, Kennedy told you to stay put, eh?" Jack smirked, knowing by the look on Harry's face that he didn't need much more convincing. "Would put them in their place if you helped me get Sam and Jackson back after that awful job Simmons' men did at their surveillance. Besides, it's not like you have anything better to do. Unless you want to go to Kansas to babysit the flyboy?"

"I've already sent some operatives over to Kansas to pay Mitchell a visit. Make sure he's home and check what he knows," Maybourne said. "Well well well, it looks like I was right about your girl, Jack. Take a look at this."

He watched as Jackson's laptop was turned his way and frowned at the symbols he saw. "What's that? Some secret code?"

"Maybe it's an alphabet in a different language," Harry suggested. "A language they both knew and could use to communicate."

"Doesn't look like any language I know and it doesn't resemble those ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs either," Jack replied. Seeing the surprise on the other man's face he shrugged sheepishly. "What? I read that book by Jackson's double and it had pictures of what he thought was alien writing."

"Well, it doesn't look to be a normal alphabet or keyboard order. I guess it's not surprising for Carter to know an alien language in her line of work that is also one of the twenty-seven languages Jackson speaks."

Jack sat back in his chair and took another look around the room, hoping to find some clues. "Did you find anything else that could indicate where Sam and Jackson went?"

"Not yet," Maybourne said, shutting off Sam's laptop. "This one is suspiciously empty although she's definitely futzed with your computer guy's programming. Her signature coding is all over the stuff on Jackson's laptop and flash drive too – she's good. You sure your girlfriend didn't just run off with her friend after you knocked her up, Jack?" He smirked and then let out a sigh. "What?"

"I'm tempted to just shoot you, Harry," he groused. "Now, are you going to help me or not?"

"Fine, fine. We'd make an excellent team!"

Jack got up from his seat and ran a hand through his hair as he looked at all the different books strewn across the place. For a guy that only worked part-time and had only just started working this month Jackson sure had a lot of stuff in his office. "We need to know where they went. The spaceship is a dead end and was probably intended as a distraction so we would be too preoccupied with it to notice they were gone. What was he working on?"

"The Stewart Expedition found some kind of treasure in the early 1930s in a temple near Cairo. However, every member of the expedition died within a year, attributed to the "Curse of Osiris" to whom the temple and artifacts apparently belonged. The ship carrying the stuff sank off the coast of New Jersey six months later," Maybourne informed him.

"Let me guess, that's the ship they're trying to salvage here."

Harry nodded and gestured with his thumb at the door. "Your girlfriend's secretary told me they're still working on the shipwreck but they received some of the salvaged cargo already and that's what Jackson was working on."

"Clearly this was important to both of them or they wouldn't have gone through all this trouble," Jack mused aloud. "They already screwed up by leaving their laptop here so there's got to be something else they forgot that could lead us in their direction."

"Maybe they just didn't need them anymore and didn't care if we found their computers. They're obviously not coming back. They already have a head start of a couple of hours at least, maybe that's all they need."

Jack shook his head and started browsing the books that would have been within Jackson's reach from his chair at the desk. After a few minutes he found what he was looking for. "Look, this amulet belonged to that Osiris dude. Do we know if they've taken anything from the cargo and if so, what the items were?"

"Let's check with your girlfriend's secretary," Maybourne said. "You call Hammond and arrange us some transport. Maybe we can still catch up with them."

* * *

><p><strong>Day 98<br>1020 hour  
>Near Cairo, Egypt<strong>

Sam squinted at the bright sun despite the early hour and her sunglasses and jumped out of their leased jeep. Sand was blowing all around them and it was hard to see but she definitely recognized this tomb from eight years ago, when they had followed Daniel's former colleague Steven Rayner to Cairo, thinking he was the host to Osiris. Instead, Steven turned out to just be very curious and unlucky because Sarah Gardner, Daniel's ex and the actual host to the Goa'uld had been waiting for him and his amulet and had attacked them all, before escaping the planet in his hidden archaic teltac. "Looks just like I remember it."

"Yeah, me too. Although it's difficult to see anything with all this sand," Daniel huffed.

"Tell me about it," she muttered. "This is why I hate those sandy planets."

Daniel seemed to have some trouble with his prosthetic leg and cane, but she knew better than to ask him about it or offer assistance. "Now what?"

"There's only one entrance that we know of and it doubles as exit. If someone else comes after us before we get access to the ship we're screwed with nowhere to go," Sam surmised. "Give me your bag."

He handed it over, leaning heavily on his cane and watching her as she rummaged about. "I'll take the amulet and a zat, please," he remarked when she pulled the items out.

Grinning at him she handed them over before pulling out the tacs. "I figured these might come in handy. Let's set up a perimeter around the entrance but make sure to set it to stun instead of lethal."

"I wonder why Steven and Sarah never showed me all these other items we've salvaged," Daniel mused aloud as he took a couple of the heat-seeking remote laser-like weapons and followed her example.

"Maybe they didn't find everything or maybe they didn't want you to know about them," Sam replied. She refrained from pointing out the obvious strained relationships he'd had with his former colleagues and friends, due to him publicizing his theories about aliens having lived on Earth thousands of years ago. Or that while he thought he was rekindling his friendship, perhaps even old romance, with Sarah Gardner it had really been Osiris trying to find out what he knew about the Stargate and Goa'uld in general. "How is Sarah doing these days?"

A look of surprise was shot her way before he said anything. "Er, she's still recovering from the emotional trauma now that they've extracted the Goa'uld but she's coping remarkably well according to MacKenzie considering everything she's been through. There are still some things that scare her, like being around a lot of people but last year she took Jack up on his offer to do some work for Homeworld Security."

"Oh?" That was certainly news to her! It had probably happened while she on Atlantis and no one had thought to mention it to her, not even Jack.

"Yeah," Daniel smiled sheepishly as he placed the last tac and activated it. "It's mostly translating of alien languages and making video tutorials and research references for new recruits and SG teams. Technically she's overqualified for that sort of thing but she doesn't feel ready yet to teach in front of an actual class and using what she's learned from Osiris for good helps her deal, so…"

Sam smiled as she tested the tac and checked their settings. "That's great!"

"Do you have the harakash?"

"Yep," she padded her pocket and grabbed her own zat. "I need one free hand for my zat and the other for the ribbon device…"

Daniel nodded in understanding and readied his own weapon as they simultaneously crept up to the tomb's entrance, each on opposite sides. Waiting for her signal, he activated his zat just in case, tightened his grip on the amulet in his other hand leaning on his cane and then they both went inside.

* * *

><p>Jack watched as Jackson did a quick sweep and went up to the opposite wall where he placed the amulet from the book in some sort of slot. To his surprise the wall opened to a red light and something shiny. Seeing Sam nearing Maybourne's hiding place as she continued her sweep, he readied his MP5 and stepped out of the shadows. "Well, hello campers!"<p>

"Jack!" The archeologist yelped, his eyes quickly darting to Sam before he too lifted his hand with… some kind of weird thing in his hands, presumably a weapon.

"Colonel O'Neill," Sam greeted coolly, although her blush spoke volumes.

He watched her swivel around when Harry came up behind her, her weapon thingy aiming at him. "Now, is that any way to greet your friends, Sam?"

"What's in the wall?" Harry asked with glee.

Jack made his way over to Jackson, all four of them keeping their weapons trained at each other. He wondered what their thing was capable of because he knew the damage a bullet could do and hated being in the dark about something so important. "It looks like… hm, some kind of fancy bracelet."

"Careful! That's a priceless artifact," Jackson cried when he lifted it with a finger.

"Damn, that's heavier than it looks," he muttered under his breath. "Harry, you try this thing on."

The man looked between him and Sam and sighed. "Why me, Jack?"

"Because you've rolled up your sleeves already," he said, pleased with his quick comeback.

"Carter, you move over to your boyfriend, or I'll shoot ya," Maybourne said, gesturing with his MP5 as he circled around her and made his way over to the wall.

Jack handed him the bracelet-thingy and sent him a warning glare before he focused back on Jackson and Sam. He'd told Harry that he didn't want to fire any rounds because their superiors would want them, or at least Sam alive. Of course, the rat bastard had given him a look that said he knew exactly why Jack didn't want any harm to come to Sam, but at least he'd stopped referring to her as his girlfriend and hadn't mentioned the possible pregnancy anymore since they'd left the office.

Jackson cleared his throat loudly as he shifted his weight on his cane and spoke up. "So, um, how did you get here, Jack?"

"I guess you had expected me to be in Montana, right?" He replied, but his eyes were on Sam.

"I figured it would give me a head start," she replied honestly. Or at least he thought so. Maybe he'd never been able to tell the difference between truth and lie when it came to her.

Maybourne grunted and muttered under his breath until he finally had his hand in the bracelet. "Oh, you'd gone about it pretty smart. But Jack here found out about your alias and we decided the spaceship was just a distraction," he said, wiggling his fingers. "Well played, Carter."

"Hammond pulled some strings for our transport so we weren't dependent upon civilian flights and got here before you did, thanks to the research that had been left in Jackson's office."

"Don't forget her lovely assistant," Harry chimed in. "She was very helpful too. Argh, well, what the hell is this supposed to do Jack?"

He chuckled at the sight of him in his desert outfit with the golden bracelet-thingy around his arm and the ruby in his palm. "Dunno. Kids?"

"Well, um, it's ah, eh, piece of jewelry," the archeologist replied after glancing at Sam.

"Right," Jack drawled, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he looked between the two. "And you came all the way here for a nice piece of jewelry?" To him it did look like jewelry but considering that's exactly what the younger man said it was he didn't think it really was. Maybe it was some kind of alien technology, like those weird weapons in their hands. "Sam?"

She blinked in surprise but then a slow smile crept up her face. "It's a family heirloom?"

Maybourne chuckled at her, looking for all the world as if he was joking around with friends instead of holding people at gunpoint. "I can see why Jack likes you!"

"Oh for crying out loud, Harry!" He groaned, rolling his eyes. At least he wasn't the only one embarrassed judging by the nice shade of red of Sam's cheeks. "Whoa there, watch it," he warned as Jackson moved his 'weapon'.

"What, my arm was getting heavy," the archeologist whined.

Jack narrowed his eyes at him and was surprised to see the small grin on Sam's face, instead of the annoyance he'd expected. Damn civilian scientists. "Well, you better watch it because I won't hesitate to shoot you." Okay, maybe he would a little but only because the guy missed half his leg and was using a cane to keep upright. "That goes for both of you," he added as menacingly as possible, even though he knew he would never shoot Sam if there was a possibility she was pregnant with his baby.

"Sure, whatever you say, Jack."

"And stop that!"

Harry chuckled again, clearly enjoying himself. Jack didn't think he would be having so much fun in Montana or if he'd stayed in Trenton. "Here, you try it," he said after catching his breath and taking off the bracelet.

"Okay," he replied reluctantly, waiting until Maybourne's gun was trained on the two before rolling up his sleeve and putting on the piece of jewelry. It felt weird and the gold was just gaudy but other than that he didn't think there was anything special about it. Still, if it was just jewelry then why was the ruby at the palm of the hand instead of the back? This way no one would see it unless you turned your hand palm up.

Just as he was contemplating this and wondering why the archeologist and Sam hadn't used their weapons yet, he noticed a certain look Jackson was casting at her. "What's up with that?"

They both looked startled and started denying something was up when Harry stepped in. "Jackson keeps looking at your girl, let her try it on."

"For crying out loud, she's not… never mind. I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Come on, Jack, we can't stay here forever. Give her the damn bracelet!"

Jack tried to gauge her reaction but once again she was wearing that oh so familiar blank look. "Only if she gives me her weapon first."

"All right," Sam replied slowly.

"Sam!" Jackson hissed, as if disagreeing.

"You lower yours too, geek boy," Jack added as he exchanged the small bulky item for the dangling bracelet.

With a grace neither he nor Maybourne possessed Sam slipped her slim arm in it, her fingers automatically finding their place. Jackson had lowered his weapon and was looking at her too, but Jack and Harry kept both theirs trained on her. "And?"

"What, Jack?" She asked sweetly, her blue gaze holding his dark one as she lifted her hand, palm up. Jackson kept an eye on her but his eyebrows rose at her reply, or maybe at the use of his first name.

"What is it, Carter?" Maybourne asked impatiently. "What the hell?"

Before either she or he himself could say anything Jack saw the ruby light up and he automatically aimed his weapon at it. From the corner of his eye he saw Harry aim his on Jackson. Suddenly she straightened her arm, pushing her palm forward and Maybourne's weapon flew out of his hands.

"Don't do this Sam," Jack warned her, even though he had no idea what was going to happen.

"Shoot her, Jack!"

She looked determined but he could see the gleam in her eye, knowing he would never hurt her so he aimed his weapon at her friend. "Lower your arm or I'll-"

The light coming from the ruby intensified and all of a sudden everything happened in slow motion; Jack saw Maybourne being flung to the other side of the tomb like a ragdoll and crash to the floor, so he aimed, switched from single shot to automatic and pulled the trigger. However, to his horror Sam had anticipated this move and stepped in front of Jackson at the same time. "No!"

"Sam!" Her friend cried simultaneously.

"What the hell?" Jack wondered aloud as something yellowish shimmered and the bullets fell to the floor before hitting her. Then he felt a blow to his chest and he fell back to the floor, hitting his head on landing. "Ow!"

Jackson's voice was panicky as he was shouting at Sam about something, but Jack felt a bit dizzy. Then she was suddenly in his field of vision, looming over him and he felt heat, followed by a sharp pain to his forehead. "Wha-"

"I'm sorry, Jack," he heard her whisper as his vision went black. "Daniel grab him, I'll get the ship. No, leave Maybourne, we don't need him…" Her voice giving out orders was the last thing he heard as he lost consciousness.


	35. Day Ninety Eight Continued

**1430 hours  
>Earth's orbit<br>Milky Way Galaxy**

Jack slowly became aware his surroundings, the floor beneath him hard and cold and if strained his ears he could hear a faint hum of machinery as well as the occasional rustle of clothes. Other than that it was quiet but he could sense the presence of someone else in the same room. He had no idea where he was or what he was doing here… the last thing he remembered was Sam taking off and him pursuing her halfway over the country. What the hell had happened?

Keeping his eyes closed he did a mental inventory of his injuries; his entire head was hurting, his back was stiff and every now and then he felt a twinge in his bad knee. Damn, he felt like someone had dragged him over the floor or something! There was something on his face too, something grainy. Sand! He'd been in the desert, waiting with Maybourne for Sam and her pal to show up. "Oh crap," he muttered, slowly opening his eyes as he recalled what had happened. Sam had used that shiny bracelet thingy on them and it had sent them flying through the tomb. Then she'd loomed over him, an imposing sight with locks of hair playing around her face, her blue eyes icy and her jaw set as she'd raised her arm. She had said something before the ruby lit up again… it had felt like his brain was overheating!

"Oh, you're awake," the archeologist's voice drifted over.

Jack grunted in reply as he tried to sit up, the back of his heat throbbing while the front still felt… achy, or something. "Christ, what happened?"

"You hit your head and passed out."

Yeah, right! He had crawled through the desert with a skull fracture and broken bones, no way he would pass out from just being thrown on his back! "Really? Was that before or after someone set my brain on fire?" He retorted, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

"Don't worry, you're fine," the man replied, suddenly showing up in his periphery.

"Well, excuse me, _Doctor_ Jackson but last I checked you weren't a _medical_ doctor," Jack snapped.

"Sam checked you out and she said you only had a few bumps and bruises. You'll be fine."

He snorted and shifted his legs, gingerly probing his bad knee. "Did she determine that with her medical field training? No offense, but I'd rather see a real doctor. You know, just to check if my brain hasn't melted yet."

"Jack O'Neill is asking to see a doctor? Hm, maybe there _is_ something wrong with you."

"Oh please, you don't even know me," he groused.

Jackson tilted his head and appeared to size him up. "It certainly sounds like you're still you. Besides, there aren't any doctors around so Sam's diagnosis will have to do."

"Oh for crying out loud," Jack muttered under his breath. "Where are we anyway?"

"On a spaceship."

"Right."

The archeologist's eyebrows shot up and he grinned, waving his hand around. "It's true."

Looking around the room he realized they definitely weren't in Kansas anymore. "So, what's with the gold? I'd expected something less gaudy, maybe a bit more futuristic, you know."

"Well, it's an old ship," Jackson conceded, "but the gold seems to have been their favorite theme for the past five thousand years or so."

"Are you sure it's safe to fly this thing?"

He smiled gently and handed him a bottle of water. "It's a bit late to start worrying now."

Jack wasn't sure what that meant and settled against the wall to take a sip. "So, how'd we get here?"

"Oh, after you passed out Sam summoned the ship. Sorry about the, eh," Jackson gestured at his rumpled clothing. "It was difficult to lift you with my leg, so…"

"So you dragged me all over that tomb and through the desert? Gee, thanks."

"Maybe I should have left you there," he said with a scowl.

Screwing the cap back on the bottle, Jack glared at him. "Well, maybe you should have! What did you do to Harry? Is he-"

"He'll be fine," Jackson was quick to reassure. "Bar a concussion, maybe."

"And I'm here because…?"

The man shrugged. "Sam said we might need you later."

Interesting. For some reason they needed him but not Maybourne? If they wanted to negotiate with the government to get access to the Stargate then Maybourne would have probably been a better bargaining chip. Then again, he was apparently on a spaceship so maybe they didn't need the Stargate anymore? "Speaking of Sam, where is she?"

"Oh, she's checking the ship's systems now, making sure everything is still in working order."

"Ah."

"Yeah, it would be a shame if we took off and then life support wasn't working or something," the archeologist replied, a small smirk on his face.

Ha, as if he cared he was on a so-called spaceship. All he needed to know was how to stop them and get back home, preferably in that order. "So, now what?"

"Sandwich?"

"Erm, okay," Jack took the wrapped sandwich from him. Frowning, he took another good look at it. "Where'd you get this?"

"Oh, I went on a supply run while you were out. Sam kept an eye on you. I just got back an hour ago, so that's why she's still busy."

Glancing at his watch he realized it was still set on Washington time, he hadn't bothered changing it when he got to New York or Egypt. "What time is it?"

Jackson frowned and gave him an inquiring glance. "Why, what does it matter?"

"Well, for one I would like to know how long I was unconscious," Jack said defensively. Although he had to admit the guy had a point. If they were planning to take this ship into space then did it really matter if it was noon or late in the evening?

"A couple of hours but that's only because Sam did… what she did."

"Which is what, exactly?"

Taking off his glasses the archeologist rubbed his eyes, as if he was tired. "Not something you should concern yourself with."

"Right, because she only melted my brain."

"Oh, come on, Jack," he whined. "You're _fine_."

Jack grunted noncommittally and took a bite from his sandwich. He needed to come up with a plan. Not only to get out of here but also to stop Sam from doing whatever it was she was planning on doing, preferably before they went into space. "You try having some woman fry your brain and then we'll talk. Ha, I'll bet Harry's gonna be pissed when he wakes up and realizes he's been beat up by a girl."

"Very mature, Jack."

"Oh please, the guy has been bugging me for months and believe me, that flight to Cairo with him next to me were the longest hours of my life. Tell me, does he suffer some awful fate when you two fix the timeline?" He asked gleefully, even though he had no intention of letting them succeed. Still, it was information he could use to taunt Harry with if they had to work together again in the future.

Jackson pursed his lips thoughtfully, before a smile broke out on his face. "Um, no, not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

"Eh, that he managed to get out from under a treason charge and ended up as the king on a rather nice planet. Oh and he has multiple wives."

Life just wasn't fair, he thought. Okay, maybe he could still use to taunt Maybourne. It might even be better after the guy tried so hard to stop Sam, not knowing that his alternate life would be so much better. "That bastard," he muttered. "So, what's your next move? Get this baby to work and then what?"

"Then we'll restore the timeline."

"Just like that, eh?"

Sam's pal shrugged and wiped his glasses on his shirt before putting them back on. "Well, it'll probably take a few days, depending on what Sam finds in the engine room. We've never dealt with such an old teltac so we don't know what the engines are capable of."

"So basically you don't even know if this tic tac will get you where you want to go? Well, I sure hope you have a plan B then!"

"Teltac," the man corrected, letting out a long-suffering sigh. "It's a Goa'uld cargo or scout ship."

"And, thus, therefore?"

Jackson rolled his eyes and shifted on his feet, leaning more of his weight on his cane. "This _is_ plan B, since your government refused to let us try and find a way home. We were forced to find another way and after months of preparation Sam pulled it off."

"Well, I for one think your plan sucks," Jack retorted. He popped the last bit of his sandwich in his mouth and unscrewed the cap of his water bottle to wash it down.

"You know, Sam told me I could shoot you if you were being obnoxious," he replied, waving that weird little alien-looking weapon thing around.

"Did she now? I thought you said you needed me?"

The younger man shrugged, giving him a speculative look. "I said we _might_ need you but that's beside the point. See this? It's called a zat'nik'tel and one shot just stuns, painful kind of like you're electrocuted but there's no long-lasting effect. Two shots kills."

"I'm guessing that _does_ have a long-lasting effect," Jack said dryly. "Not that it really matters anyway if you let Sam fix the timeline; I'll be dead anyway. Sure, you guys get to go home but I'll end up as dead as my counterpart. Everyone here will be erased and for what? I can't imagine your world is so much better if my kid shot and killed himself with my gun."

"I am sorry about your son," Jackson said gently. "I saw firsthand what that did to Jack but this," he waved his hand around, "isn't all that much better once Ba'al arrives and enslaves your planet."

"There's no way of knowing if that alien even intends of coming here," he countered. "And if you were so worried about him enslaving the planet then maybe you should have cooperated with us a bit more. Given us something to defend our planet with."

"We cooperated from the beginning but it soon became clear your government wouldn't let us try to find a way home and would only use the information we gave you against us. It's ironic really, from what I understand of the physics of all this."

Jack narrowed his eyes in suspicion and wondered if he really wanted to hear this. Clearly the man had already made up his mind about this, but maybe he could still convince Sam this was wrong? If she was pregnant… "What's ironic?" He questioned, his mind going miles a minute to try and find a way out of this.

"Well, Sam told me her theories about how this happened on our way over here. Like I suspected she'd initially hoped we could get access to the Stargate aboard _Achilles_ to try and trace Ba'al's address so we could go there and find out what his failsafe device was and how to stop it. His clone mentioned at the extraction ceremony that he'd gotten the idea from us and the only way we've traveled through time is via the gate at the exact moment a solar flare would intersect the wormhole. That's impossible to predict with our technology but maybe Ba'al found a way…

"Anyway, Sam said there are basically two schools of thought on time travel. One is that the laws of nature will prevent you from killing your grandfather, that somehow the laws of time and time travel won't allow you to change the future. Clearly that isn't the case here since Mitchell was never born because his grandfather died already. The other possibility is that there are parallel universes, a multiverse and when you travel back in time you're actually arriving in a different time stream. And the things that you do there continue to have effects in that timeline, in that time stream but not in the one where you started from," Jackson concluded. "Jack?" He sounded impatient, as if he let his mind wander all the time. Which he did, but this guy couldn't know that.

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking I probably would have preferred you shooting me," he replied. Seeing the annoyance on the other's face, he relented. "So this is not only an alternate timeline but another… time stream? God, it makes my head hurt even worse."

The archeologist bobbed his head enthusiastically. "I'm not sure on the details and correct terms, but I guess this means that by using Ba'al's device you'll travel to an alternate reality, where time will unfold differently than it's supposed to but it apparently it doesn't affect the original timeline or reality. So if your government would have allowed us to look for Ba'al's device and we would have been able to use, we simply would have gone to the past of another reality in which we would have stopped Ba'al and thus the events would unfold as they had in the original timeline we came from. But it would never be the exact same reality, just the same end result."

"And what's so ironic about this?"

"Well, now we're forced to look for the jumper with the time travel device we came across a few years ago off-world but never used it because there are too many risks involved with time travel. We do know however that it doesn't create an alternate reality like Ba'al's device would have done because of the 'prophecies' that were written on the planet's ruins. They couldn't have all been written on the same ruins if every trip through time would result in another reality. So now that we have to use the jumper we will go back in time in this timeline and literally restore this reality's timeline. If they'd just let us do what we asked for there probably wouldn't have been any consequences for your timeline, your very existence," Jackson said, matter-of-factly.

Jack felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach as the archeologist just shrugged and walked over to sit on a crate. He couldn't believe it! If that was true then _everything _had been unnecessary; his assignment, his affair with Sam, her possible pregnancy and the consequences to his marriage… He was still racking his brain for a smartass reply when footsteps neared their location.

"Daniel," Sam's voice sounded before a door suddenly opened and she appeared. "I don't think this is an archaic teltac."

The guy frowned in confusion and moved to get up but she waved him down. "What do you mean?"

"Well… Oh, Colonel O'Neill. You're awake," she stated, having spotted him in the corner. Her eyes gave him a onceover before she looked back at her friend. "I thought I told you to restrain him if he woke?"

"It's okay, Sam. He still has a headache from the ribbon device and I think his knee is bothering him. Besides, where would he go?" Jackson grinned, his eyes almost disappearing.

Sam on the other hand wasn't laughing and looked annoyed. "He could easily overpower you, Daniel."

"And then what? He couldn't even get out of this cargo room, let alone get back to Earth on his own."

Jack gasped, his bottle slipping from his fingers. They weren't on Earth anymore? Suddenly Sam was next to him, picking up his bottle and giving him a small smile. It looked like a mixture of her shy and apologetic ones but for once he didn't think it or the way she flushed under his scrutiny was cute.

"I gave him something to eat, you should get something too," Jackson's voice interrupted their moment. "There's enough for a few days and then we'll need to ration if it takes longer than that to get to the jumper. What did you mean when you came in here?"

"Oh," she averted her eyes and went over to a bag near her friend's crate. "I'm not saying it isn't archaic, it's definitely old. But I don't think it's a teltac. I did a sweep when we ringed aboard and not only is it larger than your regular teltac, it also has a cloak, shields and minimal weapons. Not something I would expect on a five-thousand-year-old teltac. Some we've encountered didn't even have shields or a cloak, let alone weapons. Instead of two major sections, the cargo room and flight deck separated by the removable bulkhead it has more space and a different layout."

Jack saw her friend turn pensive as she got a sandwich and bottled water from the bag at his feet. Observing them he took another sip of his own water. A moment later Jackson's face cleared up and he nudged Sam with his cane.

"If you think about it it makes sense; first thing Osiris did when he couldn't find the Stargate was go to this ship. Clearly it had been hidden under the sand and was his escape ship, so those technical upgrades would be necessary if he didn't have access to a ha'tak or even an alkesh."

"Explains the private sleeping quarters with its own facilities too," Sam added in between bites.

When the two of them started discussing more details and Sam suggested the spaceship they were on was actually a model between the tic tac and the alkesh, Jack tuned off their conversation. He thought she looked tired and he wondered if she'd gotten any sleep since she'd left him alone in bed in the middle of the night. Perhaps she'd caught a few winks on her flights but he didn't think that was enough. Since he didn't have the time he had no idea how long it had been since they faced off in the tomb but even he was tired, and he'd been unconscious for hours!

He was startled from his musings when the two friends started speaking louder, with Sam getting up and heading for the door again. "Daniel," she hissed, clearly trying to talk to him in private.

"It's just Jack," the guy replied, waving in his direction. "Besides, you said we shouldn't leave him alone. Unless you want me to zat him or maybe stuff him in an escape pod?"

"Hey, I resent that." He wasn't planning on suffering because Sam didn't want to talk in front of him. Strange considering they'd already been so intimate before and it hadn't been that long ago since she'd been sleeping in his arms. "You two can talk outside, I'll just stay here."

For a moment it looked like Sam wanted to leave but then she turned back to Jackson. "I told you already, Cam can stay here in case something goes wrong and we fail. He might not be able to restore the timeline but he can at least be of help when Ba'al gets here," she said, looking at him with her last words.

"But he's part of the team, we can't just leave him behind!"

"He built a life here, Daniel. He fell in love and since we don't _need_ his help to do this, I'd rather spare him the pain of another failed romance by him not joining us. That way he probably won't remember once the timeline is restored."

"But Sam-"

She shook her head and held up her hand to stave off more arguments from him. "No. Besides, there's a good chance he's already in custody now that we've escaped. We can't risk going back for him now."

Jack could tell the archeologist wanted to say more but the guy apparently recognized and acknowledged Sam pulling rank on him because he just nodded and sat back down on his crate. Interesting. Obviously Sam was still in charge of this mission, maybe he could use that to his advantage.

"How are the ship's engines?"

"Remarkably good for such an old ship," Sam replied.

Jackson held her gaze for a moment. "How far do you think it'll take us?"

"I was there when Jack adjusted the hyperdrive crystals from the teltak on our way to Taonas and even though he was under the influence of the Ancient Repository back then, I think our understanding about spaceships and –travel is much better now. Not in the least because of our own battle cruisers, the Asgard Core and my year at Atlantis. It might take me a bit longer and perhaps I can't optimize the engines as he did, but his work allowed us to travel to the Asgard galaxy in ten days so even if I achieve only half the results we'll still be good to go," she concluded.

It was amazing – and a bit scary – to hear her talking about futzing with alien crystal technology that apparently controlled the ship's engines as if she was referring to fixing up her car's engine. "Battle cruisers? Cool." Jack grinned when Sam shot him a smile in response but Jackson was still in business mode.

"We could go to Abydos or Heliopolis and use the Stargate for further travel to cut our time short and lower the risk of running into Ba'al's ships."

"Maybe, but we have no idea if Ra still rules Abydos now. Or maybe Ba'al himself does. Plus the people there don't know us and we don't have the time to start a rebellion there. I'm sorry, Daniel."

Jack wondered why she was apologizing to the guy but he seemed to take it hard and squeezed her hand. Interestingly, she turned her head away and studied the floor. There was something she wasn't telling them if he was reading her right. "What about Heliopolis?"

Her eyes found his and he thought he could see some regret linger there, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. "No, while the planet is unknown to the Goa'uld and uninhabited, therefore unlikely to have been affected by the timeline alterations, it's too big of a chance. When we went there eleven years ago the castle was already falling apart due to the extreme weather and perhaps the vibrations of the Stargate worsened it, but the DHD fell into the ocean right before we left. I wouldn't be surprised if the gate followed soon thereafter or at least has by now."

"Oh and the DHD wasn't working either," the archeologist added. "So we would need an alternative power source."

"I'll take another look at the engines," Sam said, seemingly having come to a decision. "We could plot the course to the jumper and get on our way while I try to upgrade the engines."

Jackson grabbed her arm to stop her and shook his head. "You look about ready to keel over Sam. You've hardly slept and I know using the harakash _and _the ribbon device is exhausting and emotionally draining for you. We can stay here a bit longer, right?" When she nodded, he smiled. "So, we'll get some sleep and leave tomorrow."

She gave him a onceover and got up. "Fine, but I'm taking first watch. You look exhausted Daniel and I know your leg is hurting. There's a healing device among Osiris' personal belongings and I could-"

"No, it's okay. I don't want you to exhaust yourself. A little sleep will do wonders."

"You can take the sleeping quarters," Sam objected when he moved to one of the makeshift beds in the cargo hold.

He shook his head and sat down. "No, you and Jack can take those. That way he can get some sleep too while you keep watch. I'm fine here."

Jack silently wondered if there was more behind the guy's reasoning and by the looks Sam was throwing the archeologist's way he wasn't the only one. "Well, off we go then, I guess," he grunted as he got up. "Lead the way, Sam." With one more glance at her friend she headed for the door and quickly typed in a code on the keypad before gesturing he should go first. "Where to?"

"Turn right."

"So," he spoke up as they went further into the corridor, "why did you lie to Jackson? About Abydos."

Sam's eyes widened and he knew she hadn't expected him to catch her little lie – or maybe she hadn't even realized he'd overheard it. She gnawed her lip and then opened another door, which led to a room with a big bed. At least king size. "I didn't lie," she said, as she plopped down on one of the sleeping bags she'd apparently spread out over the mattress.

"Yes, you di-"

"No," she shook her head and gestured for him to take a seat. "It's just… Abydos is the first planet he and Jack visited and Daniel got married to a local woman, Sha're, and lived there until we came back on our second mission. While he was showing us a cartouche in a nearby pyramid Apophis, a Goa'uld, came through the gate and he took Sha're and her younger brother Skaara with him, to make them hosts. To make a long story short, Sha're was impregnated with Apophis' child and eventually died. For all we know she's still alive and well on Abydos here. I can't do that to Daniel."

Jack was quiet for a moment, recalling how MacKenzie had briefly touched on the subject of Jackson's wife and his yearlong stay on her planet but up until now he hadn't quite realized what the archeologist had really gone through. "Wow, that's… wow. What about her brother?"

"He was saved and the Goa'uld extracted from him," she said, but a wistful smile showed on her face. "But a few years later he and all his people… died, at the hands of one of our enemies."

"Crap," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Sam got up and walked up to the wall, beckoning him over. "Come, I want to show you something."

"What?" He went over to her, wondering what was so special about the damn wall.

"Look," she said, pressing a button and suddenly the wall changed and showing something akin to a window.

He gasped when he looked out the 'window' and saw the planet beneath them. "Is that… Earth?"

"You told me you wanted to be an astronaut as a boy and I figured with your love of astronomy you would appreciate the sight," Sam replied with a shy smile.

Jack wasn't sure how to respond to that and instead just drank in the sight. "Are we in orbit?"

He saw her nod from the corner of his eye. "Yes, but we're cloaked and I took the speed and locations of the satellites into account so there's nothing to worry about."

"Sam," he sighed, tearing his eyes from the planet. "Is it true that using the Stargate would have taken you to a different reality where you would fix the timeline instead of here? Jackson told me," he added when she visibly startled at his question.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her hand briefly touching his arm. "Daniel shouldn't have told you."

"Because it's true?"

She shook her head and went back to the bed. "Because we don't know. I just told him what the schools of thought were about time travel but obviously there are parameters that I am not aware of to account for the difference between the two accepted theories. We saw Teal'c and some Tok'ra disappear in front of our eyes and Vala was presumably the first to vanish. That indicates that either the timeline we were in was reset or it ceased to exist right before the three of us got here. Or maybe there's another reason, one we don't understand yet."

Jack let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and suddenly felt lighter. Turning towards her he canted his head. "Okay. But you are still considering changing the lives of the entire human race on Earth. Do you have the right?"

"If we don't," Sam said calmly, not at all fazed, "then we will live to see the end of the entire human race on Earth."


	36. Day Ninety Nine of a New Life

**Day 99  
>Milky Way Galaxy<strong>

The ship was moving effortlessly through space, probably at several times the speed of light because the view through of the 'window' looked like one of those bad science fiction movies. What did they call it, warp speed or something? Jack didn't know and he didn't really care. It still felt surreal to be on a spaceship. Christ, he'd seen Earth from orbit and now they were trekking among the stars! He didn't know when they'd left Earth behind but there had to be thousands of miles between him and his family, their entire doomed planet now. Or what was it, light years? That would probably be better considering the view he was admiring and the speed he thought they were traveling at. Not that he could compare it to anything or was really aware of them actually moving. Thank god there hadn't been those creaking noises of mechanical stress like on submarines or he never would have been able to fall asleep last night.

Okay, so he didn't know what kind of time zone space fell under but if he was pretty sure a day had passed since going to Egypt with Harry to track down Sam and Jackson. It was kind of ironic that by pursuing them he had apparently delivered himself on a silver platter to them and he couldn't help but wonder if going to Cairo had been the right choice. If they really needed his help for their little plan to succeed then he probably would have stood a better chance at stopping them if he'd remained in Washington. Or heck, maybe he should have gone to Montana to check out that buried spaceship. It certainly would have made it more difficult for Sam to kidnap him with all those other soldiers and NID operatives around!

Now, he had no idea how to get out. They were in space, for crying out loud! Jackson had been right when he said there wasn't anywhere he could go yesterday and now it was even worse since they were already en route to their destination. At least his headache was gone and his knee wasn't bothering him anymore either, strangely enough. Jack ran a hand through his still damp hair and turned his back on the 'window'. Sam was sound asleep on the huge bed atop the sleeping bag, her bare feet only just poking out from under her flared jeans and by the looks of it she'd discarded her jacket since he'd fallen asleep last night. Now she was just wearing a soft blue top and her hair was untied too.

Clearly she hadn't just dozed off during her watch but had chosen to make herself somewhat comfortable when she went to bed. That probably meant Jackson had checked in with her while he himself had been asleep, to let her know he would keep an eye on things – meaning him – while she got some shuteye. What surprised Jack most though, was that she hadn't woken up when he'd gotten up and started moving around. He'd even freshened up in the adjoining facilities she'd shown him last night. Granted, he had slept like a baby too once he'd finally managed to relax enough and push his thoughts and fears away to allow himself to doze off. But Sam had already proven she slept even lighter than him, always aware when he moved around too much or got out of bed while she had more often than not managed to sneak out without him noticing. Their last night together was a perfect example. So, he figured she had to be really tired. Or maybe she was just at ease, finally allowing herself to sleep now that she was close to fixing the timeline?

Crossing the small distance between them he leaned down to look at her. The exhaustion had been evident on her face yesterday and again he wondered about Jackson's comment of how using the alien technology had tired – or drained, was the word he'd used – Sam. He didn't know what the two of them had been up to between New Jersey and Egypt but by the sounds of it she'd used more than that shiny bracelet thingy… what had Jackson called it again? A ripping device? Nah, that wasn't it, although it had certainly felt like she'd tried to rip his brains out. Anyway, he'd said that was what had she'd used on him and he'd also mentioned something else. He wondered why Jackson hadn't operated one of the doohickeys if it was so draining on Sam.

At least she looked a bit better now, with her features relaxed in sleep. Her face had a bit more color and the dark circles under her eyes seemed to have lessened, although they were still present if he looked carefully. He let his gaze travel down her body but there were no signs of any of the alien weapons she'd wielded; not around her fingers, hand or wrist but the weird looking thing that could apparently electrocute him wasn't anywhere in sight either. A zatni…? Hm, just zat gun would do, Jack decided. There weren't any knives or holsters around her waist or thighs and no ankle surprises either, he realized when he went over to the foot of the bed. There was some kind of new doohickey on the nightstand though, that hadn't been there when he'd gone to sleep. Like everything else around here it was gold and also had a big ruby in the middle.

Jack had tried it on after waking up but nothing had happened, just like when he'd tried on the ripping device. Maybe Sam had some trick to use it. Or perhaps it only worked on women? Well, that was just ridiculous, he thought, even though it would explain why nothing had happened when he or Harry tried it on and why Jackson had thrown those odd glances at Sam. Unless, of course, it had been on purpose… Normally Jack would've dismissed that possibility but after spending some time with Jackson yesterday it became clear to him that the guy, like Sam, was very familiar with him and his behavior.

Sighing, he went back to examining the room and after five minutes he came to the conclusion the door they'd entered the room through was the only way out as well. But it wouldn't budge. There was a control panel next to it, but after pressing some random buttons he figured it either wasn't working or he was doing something wrong. Jack startled when the door suddenly opened, revealing a refreshed looking Jackson.

"Good morning, Jack," the man greeted pleasantly. "Sam still asleep?"

"Um yeah," he replied, his eyes automatically going back to her sleeping form. Even now he hadn't been able to wake her up and demand she return them to Earth. Logically he knew he could probably overpower her, at the very least when she wasn't expecting it like now, when she was fast asleep. Despite his best efforts he'd started to care for her. Hell, he'd even sympathized with her for seducing her and pretending they had a real relationship. Clearly she was better at pretending than he was. Still, after her betrayal and knowing she was on her way to fix the timeline – ensuring his son and life as he knew it would cease to exist – he was incapable of physically hurting her. Perhaps it was because deep down he couldn't blame her for doing what she thought was right or because he felt guilty over playing her, but he also knew the fact she could be carrying his child played a role in his motivations. It was also something he might be able to use to sway her.

"Breakfast?"

Jack nodded and followed him back to the cockpit, where some more sandwiches and what looked like instant coffee was waiting. "So, it's your turn to babysit me now?"

"Oh no, not really," he grinned. Picking up his own coffee he gestured towards the sleeping quarters with his free hand. "I took watch a few hours ago but since Sam had told me you wouldn't be able to get out of the room and that you'd never hurt her, I figured it would be best if I let you two get some sleep."

"Just like that, eh? That's quite a risk you're taking," Jack said. "For all you knew I could have taken her hostage, tortured her until she would fly us back or worse."

Jackson looked bemused, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly opened. "I know you would never do that. You'd never hurt Sam."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Well, for one you could have shot her in the tomb and yet you aimed at me. Thanks for that, by the way."

Jack grunted something incomprehensible, knowing it was better to ignore than try to explain because these people knew him – or better yet his counterpart – too well. "So, where are we going anyway?"

"Maybourne's planet actually. Or I should say King Arkhan the First, not that 'his'," Jackson made air quotes, "people know him yet, let alone have crowned him to be their king. Anyway, that's where the jumper is."

"What's this jumper?"

"Oh, it's ah, eh… spaceship. More advanced than this one and it can go through a Stargate, hence the name Puddle Jumper."

After swallowing a bite Jack waved around with his sandwich. "And why do we need a new spaceship?"

"Well, this one has a temporal device in the back and we need it to travel back in time, kill Ba'al before he manages to somehow sink _Achilles_ and let the timeline unfold as it should."

"Right," he muttered, before taking a sip of coffee. "And you don't think there's anything wrong with that, hm?"

Jackson got this pensive look on his face, suddenly looking more like an absent professor than a buffed soldier. "Maybe, but none of this was supposed to happen in the first place. This entire timeline is wr-"

"How can you just stand there and say that? Billions of people live in this timeline and it's the only life we've ever known!"

"I can understand how this must feel for you but Jack, you have no idea of all the good we've done over the years-"

"The Navy can still achieve that once they have their Program up and running, especially if the three of you would point them in the right direction, become consultants or something," Jack argued.

The archeologist shook his head slowly, a faraway look in his eyes. "No, they can't. I won't pretend to know the state of the galaxy right now but with Ba'al responsible for all this it can't be good. He had too much knowledge of things that might happen, enemies, more advanced races and technology…"

"So we'll stop him, with your help. You already managed to rid the galaxy of these Goa'uld once-"

"It's not that simple; we made alliances and forged friendships with other races, we discovered more advanced technology and reverse-engineered them, we developed our own spaceships and have an alien outpost in another galaxy!"

"So?"

Jackson muttered something under his breath as he lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "For centuries the Goa'uld were fighting each other and that more or less kept the playing field even. Instead of working together the System Lords still tried to take each other's forces and domains, something the Tok'ra helped them do so there wouldn't be one all powerful Goa'uld above the others. Over the years we managed to destabilize them further and by helping the Jaffa, their foot soldiers, rebel we managed to-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know all this. You mentioned that in one of your interviews," Jack interrupted him, suddenly feeling his headache resurface.

"Well, then you should know the Asgard, one of our most powerful and advanced allies, are now probably dead, extinct. They can't help your world in the fight against the Goa'uld, who are probably all working for Ba'al now or maybe he killed the other System Lords already. The Replicators could still be out there and we've only managed to defeat them by working together with the Tok'ra and even Ba'al himself. From what Jack told me we nearly failed but they think I managed to buy them just enough time while, Replicator Ca-eh, their leader was torturing me and I distracted her for a moment. All those events and corroborations happening at the exact same time again is almost impossible."

Jack munched on the last bit of his sandwich, knowing the guy had a point. "Even if that's all true, does that give you the right to reset the timeline?"

"I know you like to play dumb but I think you're smart enough to know your planet won't stand a chance when Ba'al shows up," Jackson countered. "You have absolutely no means of defense and Ba'al's fleet is probably much bigger than before. And he will come, trust me. He'll take pleasure from destroying or enslaving Earth, even if no one here knows him. He'll know he finally beat those annoying Tau'ri and SG-1."

He hated to admit it but the man was right; Earth was defenseless. Even if the Army managed to drill through the ice and uncover the alien platform in Antarctica in time there was no guarantee it would be enough to fend off an entire fleet. Hadn't Sam mentioned something about it needing a power source as well? And he thought Mitchell had mentioned something about only certain people being able to operate it skillfully, so that complicated matters even more. But there had to be another solution than simply resetting the timeline, right?

"As much as I hate waking her, I'm going to check on Sam. The sooner she does those upgrades the sooner we'll reach Maybourne's planet and can get this over with," Jackson interrupted his thoughts.

"Can't it wait a few hours? She'll wake up eventually, right?"

This seemed to surprise the archeologist, who sat back down. "I guess," he said slowly. "I figured it might be better for you to rip the bandage off, so to speak. Unless this is some kind of delaying tactic, which won't work since you've got nowhere to go."

Jack sighed and tossed the wrapper of his sandwich into the makeshift bin nearby. "No, it's just that she looked like she could use the sleep."

"Using the Goa'uld hand devices really wore her out," Jackson agreed.

"Yeah, what is up with those? Why is she the only one using them?"

"Oh, er… well, over the past few centuries the Goa'uld managed to introduce naquadah into their bloodstream somehow, we're still in the dark about the details. But it allowed them to use certain technology, like the hand devices."

"What's that got to do with Sam?"

The archeologist smirked at him. "She didn't mention she was once possessed by a Tok'ra? They're basically the good kind of snakes and she retained the naquadah in her blood as well as the ability to use the technology."

"She had one of those things in her head?" He asked, horrified at the idea.

"Yeah, but it was killed – Sam almost along with it."

Christ, apparently she hadn't been as open about all of her experiences as Jack had thought. He wasn't even going to ask how this had gone unnoticed by the medical staff…

"Good morning," Sam greeted them from the door opening, still looking a bit sleepy. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Oh no," Jackson quickly replied, beckoning her over and pouring her a cup of coffee. "I was just filling Jack in on some details. It's not like he can tell anyone, anyway. Sleep well?"

She looked embarrassed and smiled wanly as she took the coffee. "Yes, but you should have woken me up earlier."

"Jackson thought you needed the rest," Jack replied, ignoring the incredulous look the other man was sending him. "Something about those doodads wearing you out."

"It doesn't matter now anymore," Sam shrugged. Moving to the bag near Jackson she started rummaging around until she pulled out another sandwich.

The archeologist waved at the console behind him. "I plotted the course to Maybourne's planet after I took watch but we've still got a _long_ way to go."

"I know, I'll get started on the engine upgrade right now," she replied, pocketing the sandwich and holding her cup of coffee. "Can I have your zat, Daniel?"

"Sure," the man replied, handing it over. With a quick smile she took it and made her way to the door. It was only after she left that Jackson spoke again. "So, you and Sam, huh?"

"Excuse me?" Jack said, shocked at the question _and_ the guy's observational skills.

He smirked and jerked his head into the direction Sam had left. "Oh come on, you're not the first Jack O'Neill I've seen looking at her like that."

* * *

><p>It had taken almost four hours but finally Sam placed the last crystal in an empty socket and readied her zat. "Here goes nothing," she muttered under breath and then fired at the hyperdrive crystals. The blue energy crackled over the crystals and suddenly they flickered briefly until they started glowing even brighter than before. Satisfied with the result she pulled the drawer back into the wall and checked the other crystals she'd been moving around to reroute the power to increase the ship's engines to make sure firing the zat hadn't somehow burned them out. Everything seemed to be in working order so she went back to the flight deck.<p>

To her surprise Daniel was alone and O'Neill was nowhere to be found. "Where's Colonel O'Neill?"

"Oh hey Sam! He was getting restless so I sent him to his room," Daniel smirked. "I figured he would do less damage there."

"I'm surprised you got him to go…"

"I may have threatened to zat him."

She returned his grin and rolled her eyes at his antics. It was good to see he was coping so well with everything but she had to admit it unnerved her to see him interact with O'Neill. Daniel treated the man as if he was no different from Jack and seemed to have no problems bantering with him or lecturing him. If she were honest she was a bit apprehensive about O'Neill being here with them. Not in the least because he was still trying to convince them to leave the timeline alone and go back to Earth. But what worried her more was her own guilt over getting involved with him now that she was this close to getting home.

His presence was wreaking havoc with her emotions too and when he'd dropped by the engine room earlier to bring her a snack and bottled water she'd had a hard time looking him in the eye. It was awkward, especially after she'd waken up once during the night to discover their legs were tangled together and his arms had been wrapped around her as he spooned her. His hand lying protectively on her abdomen had reminded her of the small possibility she was carrying his child. She preferred not to think about it and instead focus on getting home but that only made her mind come up with dozens of scenarios of how to tell Jack she'd slept with his counterpart and how there was a chance she was pregnant too – if she would tell him at all.

The tension between her and O'Neill had gotten worse and Daniel's presence made it all the more uncomfortable for her. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd picked up on it, if he suspected something had happened or if maybe he simply _knew_. In a way they were best friends but he was also best friends with Jack and it made her worry what he would think of her if he knew about her relationship with O'Neill. It was distracting and stressful.

It didn't help that she was still tired. Using both hand devices yesterday and then the healing device on a sleeping O'Neill to relieve him of his headaches, back pain and troubling knee had really taken its toll. More than she had expected but perhaps that was down to the excitement of the past few days and her adrenaline rush wearing off last night.

It was also getting more difficult to field O'Neill's questions and it was tiring to have to come up with arguments to justify her plan. Not because she was having second thoughts or anything like that but she felt for him and she wasn't immune to his emotional pleas. Still, maybe it wasn't the best solution but Sam knew it was the right thing to do. In the end she would be the one who remembered everything, left to deal with the memories of _him_ and the fact that his son was alive here right up until she altered the timeline and Jack ended up with the sorrows and grieve about Charlie…

"… Sam?"

Daniel's voice startled her from her thoughts and she mentally shook herself. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I was wondering if you'd made any progress with the engines," he replied, seemingly amused at her wandering mind.

"Oh yes, I just finished. It looked like it had worked but I'll have to check the proficiency of the upgrade to calculate how much speed we've gained by it here." She made her way over to the console and started to examine the ship's systems to determine what the effect of her tinkering with the crystals was.

"Well, you sure did something," Daniel said, focused on the controls. "The ship is still accelerating and I can almost see hours of travel time fall away…"

Sam chuckled and continued her perusal of the systems. "If my calculations are correct we'll be reaching our destination in… oh, just a few more hours and we'll be there around nightfall on the planet," she added after checking her watch.

"Excellent!"

She went and got another snack, suddenly feeling a bit hungry and accepted another coffee from Daniel knowing she would have to stay awake for a few more hours so she could hopefully check the jumper once they would arrive.

"Maybe you should go check on Jack," he suddenly said, breaking the companionable silence. "It's been awfully quiet now for a while. Not that I think he could have gotten up to something."

"Sure," Sam replied with more conviction than she felt. "That way you can get some rest. You're going to need it if we have to make our way to the jumper after we land on the planet."

Daniel nodded and got up, leaning heavily on his cane. It looked like he was more tired than he'd let on by the way he moved. When he reached the door opening he turned back and held her gaze. "Oh and Sam? I just want you to know I understand… don't worry, I won't tell anyone." He smiled at his own joke and then finally left.

* * *

><p><strong>Day 100<br>****Puddle Jumper  
><strong>**Milky Way Galaxy**

Sam couldn't believe that they'd actually made it this far. It had been too dark and dangerous to look for the jumper when they'd arrived last night but she'd made sure to get up early and wake Daniel and O'Neill so they could get a move on. Even though she had planned this months ago it was still a surprise to finally be standing in front of the Ancient spacecraft. Up until now it had all seemed so surreal, not even ringing aboard Osiris' ship had really driven home the fact that she would be going home soon. Now though, she was convinced.

By the looks of it she wasn't the only one; Daniel, looking a bit worse for wear after their hike, was grinning from ear to ear and O'Neill's mood had grown even darker than it had been last night. She figured he now finally realized resetting the timeline was inevitable and life as he knew it would be over. At first he'd just been quiet, taking everything in while commenting it didn't look anything like another planet but once they'd been ready to leave and she'd tied his hands behind his back and his ankles together with just enough room to actually walk his mood had gone downhill.

She didn't enjoy it but she wasn't stupid enough to believe he wouldn't try and make a break for it. Or worse, damage the jumper or the temporal device! After all, he hadn't really had a chance to do anything from the moment they'd given her the ribbon device. Aboard the ship there had been no way to escape, with the exception of the descend pods perhaps and all three of them knew O'Neill would have the best chance of getting away once they'd reached their destination. It was why she had decided to keep the ship in orbit after checking to see if everything was calm on the planet and whether the ruins with the 'prophecies' were still present. Everything had looked good so they'd gone back to orbit to get some rest so O'Neill wouldn't be able to escape easily if he tried.

"Sam, this really isn't necessary," O'Neill spoke, for the first time in hours. "There has got to be another way to go about this."

"There isn't," she simply said.

"Maybe if we go back to Earth and you explain about your theory the brass will give you access to the Stargate, so you can look into finding Ba'al's address and set some charges to his failsafe device before using it to travel to another reality where you can fix that timeline. Then everybody wins."

Sam stepped up to him while Daniel limped over to the ship to open the door. "I'm sorry, Jack," she whispered, squeezing his arm gently. "This is the only way."

"No." He shook his head, his jaw clenched and scowled at her. "My son, Sam… he'll die."

"I know, but I'm afraid that's meant to be. Don't worry, you won't remember anything of this timeline once it's reset."

O'Neill let out a bitter laugh, looking at her incredulous. "I should feel better because I won't remember how my son grew into a fine young man?"

She cast her eyes downward, unsure of how to reply. There really wasn't anything she could say to make him feel better so she didn't try and instead waited until Daniel was done. "We should take a few steps back," she muttered, eyeing the ship's height and calculating the angle in which the back would open.

"Was any of it real, Sam? You and me, I mean."

"I don't think this i-"

"Tell me," he urged, his dark eyes looking down at her intently.

Her frustrations were already running high and she really wasn't in the mood to talk about their relationship, or whatever it had been. "You tell me," she countered.

He looked taken aback and shuffled on his feet, looking between the ship and her. "I can't deny I care for you, despite my effort not to."

"And how does your wife feel about that?" Sam questioned, raising a brow. "Yes, I've read your military file and I've known all along that you never divorced Sara."

"So, eh…" he cleared his throat and blinked a few times before trying again. "So, you played me from the get-go?"

She was surprised to see the hurt in his eyes and forced herself to mask her feelings as best she could. "No more than you played me, I imagine."

"Fair enough," he mumbled after a moment. "I didn't-"

"I know, you were following orders in the hopes of saving your son," Sam filled in. His eyes briefly darted to her stomach and she knew what he was thinking of when his jaw tightened. "Were you in on it?"

"No, I swear. I would never do such a thing," he said earnestly.

She nodded in acknowledgment, oddly pleased that she had been right about him. Not that it mattered much now. "Let's go take a look, shall we?"

O'Neill looked apprehensive to step into the spacecraft, even though Daniel was already standing on the threshold.

Pulling her prisoner with her into the jumper she was surprised to see everything light up immediately. "Well, looks like everything is still working…"

"Whoa," Daniel muttered, also stepping inside. He turned to her, his hand sliding over the temporal device. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Sam gave a weak smile, pushing O'Neill further inside and trusting Daniel to look over him while she opened her bag. Within moments she had the tools she needed and eventually also got her second laptop out. "I better be," she muttered.

"Hey, where'd you get that? I left your laptop back in Trenton," O'Neill commented, jerking his chin in the direction of her computer.

"Oh, this is my second one. I kept it stored in a safe deposit box in Olympia," she explained as she booted it up. This one was more advanced than the one the government had supplied her with and she's already written the necessary programs for this one. "Just to be sure I'm going to disconnect the temporal device from the jumper for now, so we don't make any accidental jumps in time."

Daniel threw her a curious look, his zat still trained on O'Neill. "Won't that take a lot of time?"

"No, the first time I was just too unfamiliar with Ancient technology but I've learned a lot since," Sam elaborated. Then she turned to the device, tools in hand and ready to reach up to the roof to get to the wiring, but suddenly the temporal device started humming as she placed her hand on it. "Holy Hannah!" She yelped, withdrawing her hand.

"I take it it's not supposed to do that?" O'Neill questioned dryly.

Opposite her Daniel's eyes were darting between her and the device. "That's right… Sam, is there any chance you might be, eh, pregnant?"

She blanched, her palms suddenly sweaty and her heart racing. It wasn't possible, was it? From the corner of her eye she could see O'Neill staring at her and she felt his eyes burning a hole through her. "No," she whispered. "It's got to be the gene therapy, right? I only received it less than two months before I left Atlantis because we thought it probably wouldn't work on me anyway, with the naquadah in my system."

"So you've activated Ancient technology before?" Daniel asked, his voice almost sounding hopeful.

"Not exactly… we didn't really, eh, get a chance and I never got the results from my blood work back because we went to the extraction," she said. "But I doubt a, er, lump of cells would have such an influence."

"A baby, Sam, not a bunch of cells," O'Neill snapped.

Turning to him she threw him a glare. "If, and that's a big _if_, I have somehow gotten pregnant it wouldn't be more than a few dividing cells right now considering when we first… eh, slept together." Her cheeks started to burn as she spoke the words and in her periphery she could see Daniel discreetly looking the other way.

"I, um, I guess it doesn't really matter now anyway," Daniel suddenly broke the tense silence. "Just try not to think of any years or eras in specific while disconnecting the device, okay?" He added with a grin. "Jack and I'll be in the cockpit while you do your thing."

Sam nodded numbly, her mind still going light-years a minute. It wasn't possible, was it? It had to be the gene therapy, she decided. Either way, Daniel was right and she pushed the thoughts away and, making sure to think of nothing but disconnecting, she went about her task. Almost half an hour later she let out a deep breath; she was done and as far as she could tell she hadn't accidentally sent them back in time!

Steeling herself for another confrontation she went over to the door leading to the cockpit and opened it. Daniel was sitting in the copilot's chair and O'Neill was in the pilot's chair. Both men were quiet but O'Neill looked pensive and at the same time panicked. When she got closer she saw that Daniel had untied his hands and had retied them in front of him, placing both on the consoles that were now activated. It probably wasn't a good idea to have him in control of the ship now that he was so upset and since her gene therapy seemed to have kicked in she didn't need him after all. "I'm done and ready to go."

"Sam," O'Neill mumbled, his pleading gaze finding hers. "You can't ask me to-"

"I'm not asking," she interrupted him. "I wasn't sure I would be able to activate the jumper if the gene therapy hadn't been successful. As for the temporal device, well, I thought it would require a natural carrier like the more complex chairs… Bringing you along was to activate the jumper if necessary and the device, after which I would attempt to hook it up to laptop and work it from there. Now I don't have to, anymore. You can untie him, Daniel."

Once he was free O'Neill got up and walked up to her, his hands on her shoulder and his eyes begging her not to go through with this. "Sam, please. That's my baby you're carrying and-"

"I'm not pregnant," she hissed, shaking his hands from her. They both knew there was no way she could know for sure, but she refused to believe it. The gene therapy made more sense; they didn't have any experience with pregnant women whose partner was an ATA gene carrier.

"Then think about how this affects my son! Tyler is-"

"Charlie!" Sam yelled, her emotions getting the best of her. "Charlie," she repeated calmer, to which O'Neill's frown only deepened. "His name is supposed to be Charlie, not Tyler!"

"I don't… what?"

Suddenly Daniel was at her side, probably scared out of his mind at her outburst. "Sam? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she spoke through gritted teeth. Taking a deep breath she tried to get her self-control back. "You should probably leave. It will only take me a few hours if everything goes as planned and then you'll simply…"

"Cease to exist," O'Neill groused. "Just like that, eh?"

"Come on, Jack. Sam is right, you should get off the jumper. Hey, maybe you can do some fishing here," he chuckled softly.

"You too, Daniel," she said as he escorted O'Neill out.

He turned around, confused and probably hurt. "What?"

Sam rubbed a hand over her face and gestured towards his leg with her free hand. "If you stay here you simply won't remember, just like Cam and O'Neill. I can take care of Ba'al and then I'll join you in the present," she said with a small smile.

"I didn't come all this way to stay behind, Sam."

"It means you'll have both legs again, Daniel."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, a pained expression on his face. Clearly he knew what that meant. After a few minutes of silence, he looked at her again. "No, you need someone to watch your six. We have no idea how many Jaffa are with Ba'al or how he managed to damage the ship. I can't let you do this alone, Sam. Not when we've come this far. Besides, Jack would kill me if he knew I was letting you go without backup."

"But your le-"

"I'll live, it's not the end of the world."

After a moment she nodded, understanding and respecting his choice. Deep down she was pleased too, knowing she wouldn't be the only one burdened with the memories yet at the same time she couldn't help but wonder if his knowledge about her relationship with O'Neill would come between them. "Okay," she agreed. Walking to the back of the jumper she saw O'Neill sitting there, looking distraught and it felt like a fist closed over her heart. She hadn't meant to hurt him this much, but there was simply no other way. "Goodbye Jack," she said softly, catching his eyes.

"I guess this is where I'm supposed to wish you good luck," he huffed, rubbing his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, just as the backdoor started closing again.

Daniel drew her attention from the copilot chair by clearing his throat. "How can you be sure this is going to happen the way you said it would? We've never done this before…"

"Because it's the only option we've got, Daniel," she replied curtly as she sank down in the pilot chair and focused. "It _has_ to work…"


	37. The End

**July, 2008  
>Extraction Chamber<br>Tok'ra Homeworld**

Jack was surreptitiously looking around the chamber, his eyes lingering on the prisoner in stasis more than once all the while pretending to be listening to what the Tok'ra were talking about. Fortunately for him Reynolds seemed to actually be listening so all he had to do was make some appropriate noises every now and then when looks, questions or remarks were thrown his way. God, he was already bored and from experience he knew there would be at least an hour or two of chanting once the Goa'uld was brought out of stasis and prior to his extraction.

Ba'al – or his clone, whatever – probably also had some infamous last words they would be forced to listen to as well. As if he hadn't heard enough of the Goa'uld's yammering when transporting the guy together with SG-3 a few days ago. Jack would have preferred forgoing the whole extraction ceremony but the President had insisted a high-ranking individual from their government should be present because this was the last clone and Per'sus and Garshaw had insisted all of SG-1 – former and current – be present anyway, so he was forced to go. If it were up to him he'd just as gladly have shot the Goa'uld since they couldn't expect the host to bounce back after being overtaken by a Goa'uld for over two thousand years; hell, death would probably be a welcome relief to the host after all this time.

His ears pricked up when he thought he heard the gate outside activate and after casting a glance at his watch he figured it had to be Sam, Teal'c and SG-1, right on schedule. Oh God, he couldn't wait to see his wife. It had been months since they'd last been in the same room, touching and kissing, or even breathing the same air and instead had only seen each other on video conferences in a professional setting. If that wasn't reason enough there was the fact she would have been relieved of command some time these past few days. Jack was pretty sure that had been another – if not the main – reason the President had insisted he'd escort Ba'al to the new Tok'ra homeworld, especially days in advance of the actual extraction; this way he wouldn't be able to interfere in the IOA's decisions regarding Atlantis, no matter how much he wanted to. Unfortunately it also meant he couldn't be there to support his wife when she was told she would be reassigned. Hopefully the extraction would be over soon so he could take her home, but with his luck that was unlikely.

Jack threw another glance at his watch, wondering what was keeping SG-1. Perhaps it would have been better to keep SG-3 guarding the gate but the Tok'ra had been insistent on using their own people and system, which was understandable since he would have said the same thing if the roles were reversed. He could just imagine letting the Tok'ra guard the gate room and operating the control room at the SGC, ha! Over his dead body. Besides, this way he and SG-3 could keep a close eye on Ba'al; it didn't matter the guy was in stasis, you could never be too careful with the snakehead.

Suddenly he heard something like a commotion outside and after nudging Reynolds the two exchanged glances, coming to an understanding. "Excuse us for a moment," Jack interrupted whatever Pussy was talking about. "We'll just check in with SG-1, see if we have to check in with the SGC or something."

"Of course, General O'Neill," Garshaw said with a regal bow.

"Sir?"

Seeing the silent question in Reynolds' eyes Jack nodded. "Get your men, just in case," he ordered, before making his way toward the exit. The voices of SG-1 and Teal'c's baritone were getting clearer as he got outside and he got this gut feeling something was off. Taking longer strides it only took him a minute to reach them. It seemed like something was going on, with Teal'c, Vala and Mitchell standing to one side and Daniel and Sam on the other. He could only see a glimpse of blond behind his favorite archeologist, but he knew it was his wife. He frowned when Daniel's khaki pants and black shirt registered with him. Why wasn't he in BDUs? Where was his weapon and why in the heck was he leaning on a cane?

"Well hello kids, how nice of you to finally join us here in Tok'ra land," he greeted, taking another step closer. His eyes narrowed when he noticed Mitchell's gun slightly raised at Sam and Daniel. "What's going on? What did I miss?"

"Jack!" Daniel flashed him a grin as he leaned heavily on his cane.

Had the man gone back to his clumsy ways and injured his leg or foot? Well, at least he wasn't dead or ascended again, Jack thought. "Daniel," he replied.

As soon as the archeologist stepped aside he caught a glimpse of Sam and then she cried his name and ran up to him. "Jack!"

"Car-umph!" Suddenly he had his arms full of Carter, her own wrapped tightly around his neck as she pressed herself against him. Before he could even _think_ of something to say her lips were on his and she took advantage of his surprise by delving her tongue into his mouth. Jack couldn't help but return the kiss as best he could, enjoying the sweet taste of her after all these months of separation. When she finally pulled back he had to force himself to take on the role of superior officer, one he hated when it came to her. "Carter, what the hell?"

Her eyes grew wide as saucers and her still swollen lower lip trembled. "Jack?" Her voice sounded so small and confused that his heart went out to her.

Jack grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her to the side with him. He would have preferred some place a little more private for this but the Tok'ra sure loved those damn sandy planets with their tiny dunes, which offered no cover at all. But at least this way their friends and her former teammates wouldn't overhear. It was only then that he realized she wasn't wearing BDUs either. "Sam, what's going on?" He frowned at her sneakers, jeans and red shirt and her untied hair. God, could she have taken the news of Woolsey taking over command this badly? It just wasn't like her to be anything but professional and what the hell had Hank been thinking letting her and Daniel go off-world in their civvies, with no weapons?

Sam took a step back, gnawing her lip nervously and he could feel a faint tremor in her arm. An arm that was more toned than he could recall from their last meeting and he briefly wondered if she'd been training her upper body more vigorously after breaking her leg in those Genii mines a little over a month ago.

"Sam?" He repeated when she didn't say a word, just looked at him like he was going to rip her a new one. "Hey," he tried in a softer tone, brushing the long lock that had been her bangs when he last saw her out of her face. "What's going on Sam? I thought we had agreed to keep things professional when on duty. I know this isn't a real mission but-"

"Oh, thank God!" She uttered, throwing herself at him again.

Jack cautiously wrapped his arms around her again, starting to get really concerned about her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," she said as she snuggled closer. "For a minute I just thought… but, thank god… Oh, I missed you so much, Jack."

He nuzzled her hair while she tucked her head under his chin and rubbed a soothing hand over her back. He couldn't help but notice how long her hair had gotten now that it was untied instead of in her usual braid and nearly reached her waist. There had to be something in the air on Atlantis, he mused. "Are you okay?"

"Never been better," came her quick response.

Jack reluctantly pulled back and looked her in the eye. "What's going on? I knew you were going to be upset, hell I was pissed, but I didn't think you'd be this emotional over losing command of Atlantis," he gently tried.

"Atlantis?"

"I don't know what Woolsey told you but HWS, the JCS and the President all agreed you've done a damn fine job at command, but unfortunately the IOA is pulling the strings when it comes to Atlantis."

The confusion left her face and Sam suddenly started laughing mirthlessly, a rather unpleasant sound to him. "No, it's not Atlantis… I have something to tell you-"

"Please don't tell me you resigned over the situation with Woolsey because that was just politically motivated and-"

"No, this has nothing to do with him; it's about Ba'al," Sam said cautiously.

Jack's face hardened, his mind flashing back unbidden to the torture he underwent at the Goa'uld's hands a few years ago. "What about him?"

"Something happened-"

"What, on Earth?"

"No, just let me finish, Jack," she admonished him, heedless of their difference in rank apparently. "Come, the others need to know as well and I'll need Daniel's support for you to believe me."

His eyebrows shot up as she pulled him with her towards the others. "You know I'd believe you, Carter," he replied when they got into earshot of the others. Hopefully she and apparently Daniel too could clear this up and the rest of them could just pretend this little slip in protocol had never occurred if they behaved professionally from now on. One of the things he'd vowed to himself when they got together was that Sam's career wouldn't be blemished by their relationship and something like kissing your superior officer while on duty… well, let's just say it could be cause for a black mark at the least.

"General O'Neill, Sir, I feel I should inform you _that_," Mitchell said, pointing at Carter with his P90, "is not the same Sam that left the SGC with us."

"Indeed, nor is this Daniel Jackson the same person who entered the wormhole," Teal'c chimed in.

"What?" Jack looked between his two friends in confusion, but neither Sam nor Daniel looked like they were confused… they both just wore a bit of an embarrassed or maybe sheepish look. "Feel free to start that explanation any time now, Carter. Daniel, I've heard you're more than welcome to jump in."

Daniel shot him an irritated look. "Gee thanks, Jack."

"Guys," Sam said in a low tone. "Please, just hear me, _us_, out," she gestured between her and Daniel. When everyone nodded wearily she flashed them a quick smile and took a deep breath. "Okay, so we've been here before. All of us. Something happened when the extraction was about to start; people just vanished into thin air and Ba'al had just told us that the original him was still out there and had a recently completed failsafe device in place in case anything happened to him. Amidst the confusion of the vanishing people Ba'al got loose somehow and attacked, Cam shot and killed him and you," she looked at Jack, "ordered us to the gate."

"Teal'c and Vala had already vanished," Daniel added. "So the three of us ran to the gate, dialed and after sending the IDC we went through but we ended up in a ship, instead of the SGC."

Sam held up her hand when it became clear they were all confused. "It turned out we were on _Achilles_, the ship that brought the Stargate to the United States. The one your grandfather had worked on, Cam."

"We were stuck on the Arctic Ice and were eventually saved by a special forces training group lead by… you," Daniel said, looking at him.

"Me?" Jack questioned, puzzled at their little story.

"Sam was able to deduce Ba'al had used his failsafe device to travel back in time and prevent the Stargate from ever reaching the United States in 1939."

She nodded and explained. "See, when Ba'al did so history as we know it unfolded differently and an alternate timeline was created. Somehow the three of us," she gestured at herself, Daniel and Mitchell, "had been accidentally preserved from the changes, probably because we were in transit at the time. Anyway, it meant that this had never happened and the Stargate Program had never been created."

"The government was understandably unwilling to let us "fix" the timeline," Daniel said, adding air quotes, "so Sam came up with a plan of her own. To make a long story short, we went back into time, prevented Ba'al from messing everything up and got back here in the jumper found on Maybourne's planet."

Jack watched as Sam got a handheld device out of her pocket and pushed a button, revealing the jumper next to the gate. "I don't believe it! That bastard went back in time just so he could stop us from executing him?"

"Well, when you put it like that it actually sounds pretty smart, General," Vala chimed in, smirking.

"Oh for crying out loud," he muttered, scowling. "But wouldn't taking that baby for a spin have altered the timeline in itself?"

Sam seemed stunned for a moment by his remark, almost as if she hadn't expected him to pay attention or to understand it. Surely she should know better by now? "Eh, yes Sir. Normally it would, but using the temporal device in the back creates a sort of energy field that encompasses the entire ship, allowing the traveler to literally fly through time. So this ship is preserved from the alternate timeline, meaning the "original" one should still be in our possession in Area 51."

"So there's two of them?" Mitchell questioned.

"Wait, does that mean there are two of you two too?" Jack asked, suddenly alarmed. Not that it would necessarily be a bad thing to have two versions of two of the smartest people he knew walking around, but it seemed dangerous… like Hammond once said; some lines aren't meant to be crossed.

"No, I theorized that by giving the jumper's temporal device specific instructions when traveling back to the present the timeline itself would recognize there are two versions of the same people since Daniel and I were both protected in the ship instead of one and would correct the "mistake" by removing the youngest version and allowing the older molecular form to remain," Sam was quick to explain.

Mitchell started nodding slowly, looking between her and Daniel, the gate and the jumper. "That's why Daniel and Sam just vanished into thin air and the two of you were standing there!"

Daniel awkwardly leaned down and pulled a laptop out of the bag at his feet. "After eliminating Ba'al Sam managed to retrieve the coordinates of the planet Ba'al had come from. The Jaffa had this small portable DHD, sort of like what the jumper uses to dial Stargates only a handheld version, I guess and the address was preprogrammed into it."

"I also matched it up to the address of the last incoming wormhole from the gate," Sam confirmed, before turning to Mitchell. "You should take SG-1 to this address immediately and destroy the failsafe device, just in case there is another clone or someone else who knows about its purpose out there."

"But… the extraction ceremony," Mitchell spluttered, looking torn. "It's my first, Sam!"

"Oh for crying out loud, those things are boring as hell. Be glad you can get out of attending it."

Sam nodded and shared a smile with Daniel. "Yeah, trust me you were not impressed with those three hours of chanting."

"Three, really? Oy!" Jack exclaimed. That would be the longest they'd been to thus far. But wait! "Carter is right. This is extremely important. Teal'c, can you get Bra'tac to take you guys there in one of those ha'taks in orbit? I'll escort Carter and Daniel back to the SGC for a further debriefing and a medical exam, while Reynolds," he waved over his shoulder to the waiting SG-3 team commander, "can attend the ceremony in our stead."

* * *

><p><strong>Briefing Room<br>Level 27, Stargate Command  
>Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado Springs<strong>

"… and we emerged from the gate at the bottom of the North Atlantic Ocean, went to the surface and then Sam activated the temporal device and we went back to 1939," Daniel explained excitedly. "We waited for Ba'al to arrive and when the Stargate activated from inside the ship and the kawoosh blew through the hole we went in, eliminated him and his Jaffa and Sam checked out their dialing device and the Stargate."

"We had found a few of the Goa'uld stun grenades in Osiris' ship that we'd taken along with us, which now came in handy," she added with a small smile.

Jack watched as Hank tried to absorb all the new information. To his credit his friend seemed to take it well. At least he himself had gotten a little synopsis on the Tok'ra homeworld already. Poor Hank had been blindsided. "From there on out you went to the Tok'ra homeworld?"

Daniel shook his head and pulled off his glasses to rub his eyes. "Ah, no, actually. We weren't sure if the Tok'ra planet had a planet seventy years ago so I suggested we go back to Maybourne's planet and go back to the present. We checked the ruins and everything seemed to be in order. Colonel O'Neill wasn't where we'd left him the first time either so those were all good signs."

Jack wondered why Sam had grimaced at that but he figured it would have been awkward at the very least to have to work with his counterpart and then just dump him on a planet. "And then you went to the Tok'ra homeworld?"

"Yes Sir," she replied respectfully. "Where we informed you and SG-1."

"So Hank," he turned to his friend. "See why I just had to leave SG-3 there and escort Carter and Daniel back to the SGC?"

Hank Landry chuckled, his previous frown quickly disappearing as he grinned widely. "Oh yes, Jack, I just hope the President feels the same way. After all, disobeying an order from the commander-in-chief isn't your smartest move."

"Who knows, maybe he'll finally make me retire," he joked. Although the idea wasn't entirely unappealing now that Sam was back from Atlantis and would be stationed elsewhere. He had suggested giving her command of one of the new battle cruisers, he thought _Phoenix_ would be a good fit even though it still felt like a demotion to him; going from commanding an entire alien city in another galaxy to a mere battle cruiser. Still, she would be the first female commander and once they would really let him retire Hank would hopefully take over HWS and Sam would have enough experience to take over the SGC. But there were still talks about maybe letting her work on the development of the moonbase and giving her that command, or another off-world base. Even then retiring to be with her sounded great to him. Maybe have a little Carter or two if they were lucky enough…

"I wouldn't count on it," Hank replied, before turning to Sam and Daniel. "Colonel Carter, Doctor Jackson, I'm sure you understand the necessity of undergoing a medical exam, just to see if you are who you say you are and if everything else is in order as well."

"Of course, Sir."

"Um, yes General," Daniel nodded slowly.

After exchanging glances with Hank, they got up simultaneously and wordlessly dismissed the two. "I'll go with you to the infirmary," Jack suggested. "It's not like I have anything better to do!" He grimaced when he noticed Daniel's limp, his heart going out to his friend for losing his leg like that and yet the archeologist had still insisted on joining Sam, knowing he would have gotten his leg 'back' if he had just stayed behind.

The two scientists were eerily quiet as they went down the corridor and entered the elevator. They exchanged glances but both seemed almost too preoccupied with something or another to actually say or do anything but stare silently. It was unnerving to Jack so he twined his fingers with Sam for the short ride up and squeezed her hand before releasing it. It earned him a small smile from his wife but that was okay for now; she had gone through a lot after all. The time he and Teal'c had been stuck in a timeloop had been tiring but at least they'd had their fun too, but Sam and Daniel had been forced to live another life for a hundred days after already being kept captive for over five weeks! And still his favorite two geeks had managed to fix the timeline and get back home!

* * *

><p><strong>Infirmary<br>Level 21, Stargate Command  
>Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado Springs<strong>

Sam waited until Doctor Lam and one of her nurses had left her alone in her private room to get up and exchange the lovely hospital gown for her jeans and shirt again. She was just putting her shirt back on when Jack entered the room and locked it behind him. The security cameras in here weren't on since she wasn't in critical care or anything and had only gotten this room for a modicum of privacy.

"Hey you," Jack greeted, a gentle smile on his face.

She didn't bother with the shirt and just opened her arms for him, to which he gladly wrapped his own around her for a hug. "I really missed you," she murmured, repressing the memories and guilt of her affair with Colonel O'Neill and leaving him behind on the planet. It had been one of the hardest things she had ever done but she knew there was no way of taking him with them because it would mean he'd be the one in this room with her instead of her husband. And even if it had somehow been possible to merge the two Jack O'Neills then she probably still wouldn't have done it; not only because of the slightly contrasting personalities but also because she couldn't burden either of them with the memories of Charlie or Tyler.

"Me too, Sam," he whispered in her hair. "God, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to hold you again."

After a few minutes she finally pulled back and donned her shirt, feeling his eyes roaming her skin from her taut abdomen to her bra-clad breasts and then her back when she turned around. Were there any marks on her from her latest encounter with O'Neill? She didn't think so but she couldn't be sure so she pulled down her shirt to cover herself.

"You've been working out," Jack stated when she faced him again. His hand briefly brushing her stomach before sliding up her arm.

"I had a lot of pent up frustration," she replied, with a self-conscious smile. Up until now she hadn't really been aware of the extra muscle definition but now she understood his slow perusal.

"I'll bet." Then his hand slid up her neck and pulled her in for another kiss. This one was long and slow, full of promise for when they'd get home. "So," he murmured after breaking it off, "what did you keep out of your official report? Oh come on, Sam, we both know a hell of a lot more happened than you told me. I saw the glances between you and Daniel and from what I understand it sounded like my counterpart was keeping a pretty close eye on you…"

Sam took a deep breath, steeling herself and sat back on the infirmary bed. "You might want to sit down for this," she said wryly, patting on the empty spot next to her before launching into her explanation about the other O'Neill. She watched his face as she told him about her first encounter with his alter ego and slid her hand into his before telling him about Tyler. He squeezed it hard even though the boy clearly hadn't been his Charlie and she felt herself well up as she continued her story.

She was shaking by the time she confessed kissing his counterpart and she knew Jack could tell. By the time she admitted to sleeping with O'Neill he had tensed up but at least he hadn't pulled away just yet. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Jack questioned in a huff, before scrubbing his free hand over his face. Shaking his head he pinned her with his dark eyes. "Sorry for what exactly, Sam? You had clearly planned bedding the guy so it's not like it was a mistake you should apologize for." He was quiet for a while and, to her fear, unreadable too. "If you hadn't done what you did," he said slowly, "then you probably wouldn't have been able to carry out your plan, right?"

"I-I, eh," she floundered, unsure of what to say. She wanted to say yes but was that really the truth? Perhaps she could have come up with another way to lull O'Neill and his superiors in a false sense of security and thereby keeping them distracted as to her real intentions. "I honestly don't know…"

He looked at her strangely but then he quirked a quick smile. "At least you're being honest," he explained. "And truth be told, Sam, I don't know what I would have done in your situation. If the roles were reversed, I mean. Hell, I probably would have still been in that other timeline waiting for Ba'al to make his appearance and enslave Earth. I cannot and will not condemn you for doing what you thought was necessary to get back home," Jack finally concluded, although she could tell it took him a bit of effort. "I mean, for all intents and purposes the guy is me, right?"

"Theoretically speaking yes," Sam nodded, squeezing his hand again. "Realistically? No, he's not and I can't tell you how glad I am to be back."

"C'mere," Jack murmured, pulling an arm around her shoulders.

She snuggled up to him, breathing in his familiar scent and drawing strength from his presence. "Jack? There is something else…"

He tensed up in her arms and she instinctively knew he didn't want to know any more details. It must have cost him more than he let on to accept her affair and she knew it was probably down to his insecurities about his age and her past attempt to move on from whatever it was they had at the time with Pete. She had hurt him, she knew, even though he would never tell her. "What is it, Sam?"

"There's a small, _small_ chance I'm… pregnant."

"What?" He pulled back to look at her, a light shining in his eyes briefly before they turned dark and inscrutable again as they darted down to her flat abdomen. She could almost see him do the math 'just in case' only to realize there was no way it could be from the last time they'd been together. "You're pregnant with his child?"

Sam gripped his hand as he tried to pull away from her. "Jack, please, let me explain. Someone, and from his recent teamwork with Maybourne I'd guess it was him, told him the NID had switched out my birth control pills with fakes in the hopes me getting pregnant would deter me from restoring the timeline."

"Bastards," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "How long were you sleeping with him?"

"About a month… but the long term effect from using my previous birth control on Atlantis should still be in effect for another month or so," she tried to reassure him. "And we don't even know if I can still conceive with my age, the trauma my body has gone through and the after effects from Jolinar or if a fetus could even survive being introduced into a new timeline."

Jack was silent for a few minutes, his jaw clenched as he was clearly processing all the information she'd just dumped on him. "If you and Daniel were protected by the temporal device then why wouldn't the same go for an unborn baby? I guess it would explain your ability to use Ancient technology…"

"But I've also received the gene therapy, remember."

"Oh right, almost forgot about that," he mumbled, not really seeming relieved by that.

Sam frowned, puzzled by his behavior. In a way she'd expected him to be shouting, yelling and maybe pacing around instead of just sitting there next to her. "I asked Doctor Lam to run some tests and hopefully she'll have the results of the therapy as well as any possible conception in a few days."

He looked up at that, his face still blank. "They can check for pregnancy already?"

"A blood test is more reliable in this case and should give me a definitive result."

"Okay," Jack said slowly before jumping off the bed. Standing in front of her he tipped her chin up with his finger. "The timeline was reset, right? Meaning the other me and… well, me are basically the same person just with different life experiences?" When she nodded he continued with a small smile. "Then I guess it doesn't really matter one way or another. You know I love kids and genetically speaking this would still be my baby, but even if it wasn't it's still yours. I guess I should be glad it was me they sent after you and you know, we do always seem to end up together in every alternate reality we've come across."

"Yeah, we do," Sam replied cautiously, not sure if she was only hearing what she wanted or if he was really saying this.

Leaning forward Jack gave her a quick kiss and let his forehead rest against hers. "I love you, Samantha Carter and you know I'd love to have a family with you if it's possible. I'm not going to lie and say I'm thrilled about what you did but if you hadn't done it then you wouldn't be here. None of us would."

She smiled shyly, surprised he was so generous about something she would always hold against herself and something she would probably never be able forget. With his known grudges it took her aback to see the love and trust Jack still felt for her and it was humbling in a whole new way now. "I love you too, Jack O'Neill."

The End…

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** That's a wrap! I hope you all enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I would love to hear your opinion about the story!


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